


Keith & Lance

by m_erxsa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Is Trying, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith has a grandfather, Keith has anger management issues, Keith is broke, Lance is a rich bitch, Lance wants to be a chef, M/M, Pidge is a good friend, Sharing a Bed, but don't worry cause there's, smut is only implied tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_erxsa/pseuds/m_erxsa
Summary: Lance needs to find a way to get his parents to agree to what he wants. Why must it be so hard for them to understand? So he needs a plan, something that'll make them listen.Maybe he just wants to spite them. Will a fake boyfriend do the trick?Lance McClain always gets what he wants.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	1. Introduction.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All of you beautiful people](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+of+you+beautiful+people).



> based on the motion picture: Isi & Ossi.  
> I just needed this fic in my life, I hope you guys enjoy it.

Lance Charles McClain, the youngest member of the McClain family. His great-grandparents escaped Cuba's dictatorship and managed to produce enough money to develop a small fortune that's been growing ever since, generation through generation.

On the other hand, there's Keith Kogane, only child of the Kogane family. Their family business is run by his mother - obviously, only the best food truck of Korean street food of the state.

Even though both of them were quite the special-not-so-bright-snowflakes while growing up, there was one essential difference between the two of them: When Lance was ten years old, the wealth of his family was exactly €2,347,867,513.27. At the same time, Keith's single mum's fortune was exactly €27.63.

Over the years, the kitchen became Lance's absolute favourite place to be, so his schooling turned into a disaster. His parents didn't approve of his antiques - constantly sneaking off to the kitchen to hang out with the cooking staff. They were all eventually fired.

Keith's mother decided that his anger management issues would be well off if dealt with some boxing lessons. The kid also lost total interest for school. The breakthrough of his boxing career is now pending. Soon enough he'll be against an important opponent and if he does well, he can make it into the professional boxing league.

Lance graduated high school after having to repeat his senior year twice. And in a couple of weeks, he's hoping to start on his culinary studies at the well known and prestigious university of Le Cordon Bleu, Paris.


	2. Friends and foes, fasten your seat belts.

"Keep the change, kid." The customer sighed, slapping a bill over the counter. "Shit gets more expensive every week. Democracy is shit."

Keith grunted a response without even looking up at the man. Krolia sure was taking her sweet time away from the store. Not that Keith was bothered much by it, but still, he just didn't want to miss any more practice than he had to.

The man took the pack of cigarettes and took off, finally, Krolia stepping into the store after the customer left.

"We gotta talk about your grandpa. This time he will stay out of jail, Keith." Krolia walked towards the counter, taking a coffee cup, "And you're gonna make sure he behaves, yeah?"

And just like that, Keith's insides would start boiling. "When does he get out?"

"Monday, probably. And you know him, he's gonna need a little bit of extra support -"

Looking up at his mother with an unfazed expression, he cut her off. "I'm in no mood to put up with that asshole's shit. I gotta be ready for the fight."

"How can you talk about your grandfather like that, young man?"

"Miss Kogane?"

They both turned to the clinking bells at the doorway, where a bald man wearing a suit stood awaiting a response. Krolia cleared her throat and flicked her hair back, flashing then a flirty smile.

"Yes, that's me."

"Uh -" he opened a folder with his fidgety hands, wary of the boy's burning gaze over him. "My boss asked me to hand, uh deliver, this to you."

"Oh, how kind of you."

Keith observed intently as his mother took the folder from the man and guided him towards the counter for a cuppa. Her flirty behaviour didn't change until the man announced:

"Well we assumed you hadn't received the other warnings. Next time it will be the bailiff."

"Oh, right."

"- Or the police, but Miss, it won't be us!" Krolia sighed dismissing the man. Keith's heavy gaze followed the pair throughout the store, watching as his mother pushed him out the door along with the folder.

"You're not gonna read it?"

She chuckled, "Nope."

"Are you from the tax office?" Keith had the impulse to ask. His question was ignored.

The man insisted, "Your bill has reached €14,000. Let me remind you that you owe that to -"

"Yeah, yeah. We're investing in an electric pump, so we won't be needing your help anymore."

Their argument kept going back and forth while Keith watched unamused. It was gonna be an endless discussion, it was always impossible to get his mother to change her mind when she was already set on something.

"Who the hell is this guy?"

Keith recognized that voice. Looking up, he was faced with a small, angry and Mrs. always ready to fight Katie Holt - also known as Pidge. Her tiny figure stood between the tax officer and the store's crystal doorway. She studied him from head to toes, pushing her rounded glasses up her nose before turning to Krolia once more.

"Is he bothering you, Ms K?"

"Everything's fine, Pidge. Just ignore him."

The man stood puzzled between the two women, turning to Keith with a confused expression. The boy just shrugged. If Pidge were tall enough, one could say she was staring the man down.

The ruckus subdued after Krolia finally kicked the man out of the store along with a promise of checking out the papers in a while.

Pidge sat over the counter, taking a candy bar from the stack laying at her right. Without wasting any more time, she munched on the bar, taking her laptop out of her bag.

"We're €14,000 into the hole?"

Much to Krolia's enjoyment, her son addressed the elephant in the room. As he always did. She knew he wasn't one for keeping quiet, laying low. After all, she had raised him.

She smiled, looking up to Keith and his friend. "It's really not a big deal tough -"

"Not that big of a deal?!" Keith snapped, with a flick of his wrist a box of lollies flew across the floor.

"Hey Krolia, I found these awesome set of blades at this online store the other day..."

"Oh, let me see."

He'd been ignored, what's new? Irritation bubbled at Keith's guts once again.

-

Lance skipped into the convention centre as hurriedly as if he were walking over hot coal, Nyma following closely behind calling after him. Only did he stop when Rolo stood before him, clearly bewildered about his sudden appearance.

"Hey, Lance. We certainly weren't expecting -"

"Where are my parents?"

Rolo smiles swiftly, "I'll tell you that if you agree to go on another date with me."

Lance chuckled, Nyma stared in disbelief.

"What?"

"You've had two dates with him, he's not interested. How sad are you?"

Rolo cleared his throat, glancing away from the pair. "Okay, then I suggest we say I was here, I tried everything. You know, just in case your father - or somebody asks. Nyma, you'll be my witness?"

Nyma scoffed, Lance immediately questioned, "What did they offer you?"

"Ah, man." A nervous laugh escaped his lips as Lance edged closer towards him, "He just - He worries about you and well, he also likes me a lot, yeah? And now the internship to Shanghai is off and your father said that maybe he could -"

"He offered you an internship if you tried to ask me out again?"

"Uh, yeah. And I have witnesses who can verify." Rolo gestured to Nyma, standing behind Lance. "Can you send me that video?"

Lance glanced over his shoulder, only to notice the blonde recording the scene. He huffed, only to walk away with once again, Nyma following closely behind.

"Enjoy the exhibition!" Rolo called out to the couple.

Lance was able to spot his mother surrounded by a few people, a glass of champagne in her hand while she gestured towards a sculpture next to her. Without thinking twice, Lance leapt into the subject he was there to discuss.

"How long have you been fixing my grades, Mother?"

She turned towards him with a tight smile, shoulders tense, tight grip on the champagne glass. "Oh darling, how nice of you to join us at the opening of the exhibition that is so important to us." She cleared her throat, glancing towards a dark-skinned man, equally as fancily dressed as her. The man just watched curiously at the mother's and the boy's interaction in front of him. "Mr Harridan, if you'll excuse us."

Mercedes took her son's arm and dragged him away from the prying crowd.

"How long has your shitty lawyer been fixing my grades?"

"He didn't fix them, he was just... helping a bit. There's no shame in that. Everyone needs tutoring." Mercedes whispered, tucking a stranded brown curl behind Lance's ear.

"Did you really think I couldn't pass?"

"But now you have graduated, there's nothing to make a fuss about -"

"Well I don't have a diploma, and I won't go to college."

Somewhere behind him, his father had butted into the conversation, as usual. "Lance, uh..." The broad-shouldered man looked between his wife and his son. The woman just stared back expectantly. "Of course you'll go to college..."

"I'm going to be trained as a chef at the Cordon Bleu of Paris."

His parents looked at each other, both a total loss of words. They had been taken aback.

"What?"

"And it won't be cheap. How much money is in the account you set up for me?"

His father groaned, his mother chuckled. "You will get that money when you're twenty-five and you've graduated from college." She stated with a smile, earning a huff from Lance.

"Could you please stop with that stupid smile?"

"Could you please stop making such a scene?"

"I want my money now."

Lance's father rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, "You know, it's completely normal that you're angry right now, but do you really... ah, you a chef? You don't seriously want to become a chef, Lance."

"Are you really trying to decide what I want for me?"

"No, God no! Of course not, Jesus."

"Then also, why did you promise Rolo an internship so he would date me?"

"Lance ..."

"I want my money now!"

Mercedes sighed, "You won't get a single cent for such a silly thing, understood?"

"I'm going to go," Lance shrugged his father's hand off his shoulder. "I make my own decisions now."

"Over my dead body."

Nyma quickly followed after Lance once again, not without waving farewell to his parents with a small and doubtful smile.

"Lance!" His father called.

"Let him go," Mercedes pressed her hand to his chest, signalling another man to walk over to where they stood.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Hector, follow him. Keep an eye on him and do not let him see you, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." The guard nodded frantically before taking off.

"Training to be a chef, what's gotten into his head?" 


	3. Blink, blink. It's fake, bitch.

Ah, yes. The scent of dirt and sweaty bodies that invade your nostrils the moment you hit the gym. The boxing ring awaited for Keith's presence with anticipation as the guy walked in, Pidge Gunderson trailing by his side.

"Mate, listen. That lad you're up against... Dako, Zhukov, Sudoku, Sonduko..."

"Sendak, Pidge." 

"Whatever. You better knock him out, you hear me?"

"But I still won't get the damn €14,000." 

Pidge's sneakers scraped the floor as she stopped dead in her tracks, looking up from her game console. Keith turned at the sound, receiving a punch at the arm. "Shut up, you deck that lame-ass duck."

"Keith!" His coach called out to the boy while walking towards the pair. 

"Shiro, hey."

"Listen, we've got a problem." The man glanced away, letting out a defeated huff before facing his kids again with a troubled look in his eye. "It's your sponsor."

"What about him?" Pidge questioned, pushing at the matter.

"The clot is peeved about something." 

"What do you mean?" 

"He backed off."

"Backed off?" Keith's brows furrowed.

"Gone off!"

"Gone off?"

Shiro pressed at his temples, letting out a sigh. Sometimes Keith could be... quite infuriating. "We don't have enough money for the fight!" A burst of anger. Pidge silently glanced from one man to the other, prepared for another burst. Keith was just staring blankly at Shiro tough, not a single word. 

"Sponsor's having doubts about you, he doesn't believe in you anymore. You're only here part-time and you spend all your time at the damn servo."

"You're kidding me, right?" 

"He's out, kid." 

Shiro shook his head, leaning back against the once-white dirt-stained gym walls. Keith let out a sigh along with a breathy laugh, then stepped away from the two. Pidge leaned against the wall next to Shiro, both of them avoiding to stand near the ticking time bomb.

"What an asshole. How do we deal with that now, huh?" 

"We'll need €8,000 for a start up." 

"What, you want me to rob a bank or something?" Keith scoffed, "My grandpa is like the shittiest gangster in the world, want me to follow that?"

"He's a playboy." Pidge whispered, snorting a laugh.

Shiro was cut off at the midst of replying to Pidge's comment when a loud clang brought their attention towards the raging boy standing a few feet away from them.

"Bloody hell, Keith. Don't ruin my fucking lockers like that!" 

"Fuck off."

-

"Just look at her post: Champagne-cornflakes breakfast, forty one thousand likes."

Lance shoved the cellphone off his face, glaring at Nyma for a few seconds before facing the road again. "Okay, awesome. What's that even supposed to tell me?"

"The world is not fair. My 442,375 followers have accepted that and so should you. You've graduated. Got a fake diploma, sure but hey, you can go to college."

"Why must I go to college? Why does everyone think that I have to study?"

"Well studying is easy, I think it's fun."

"You've got like an actual real-life diploma. I don't!"

"- Eyes on the road." Nyma warned, holding the steering wheel steady whilst Lance dramatically threw his hands in the air. 

Lance drove silently with a scowl etched to his lips. He wasn't up for any more college and diploma and brainy discussions for the rest of the day. He just wanted to get home, maybe take a nap in the pool, snack on some mango. 

His eyes wandered at the sides of the streets until he spotted a worn-out diner, light up by red and green old flickering lights at the middle of the day. And well that was an excellent idea now. 

"I'm stopping at the diner."

Nyma's eyes seemed to bulge out of her skull for some mere seconds, "You're what now?!" She scanned the block with a wary and uncomfortable expression before adding, "I didn't bring my pepper spray, Lance." 

"Don't worry, it won't take long." 

Nyma followed Lance, remaining attached to his hip as soon as they reached the diner's counter. It didn't take long before a woman with bleached purple hair stood behind the register, gum in her mouth.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Hi, Acxa..." Lance read her name tag, flashing a flirtatious grin. She didn't seem amused. "I read that you're hiring?" 

Acxa popped the pink gum in her mouth, eyeing the odd couple up and down with a smirk before huffing. "Yeah, but you wouldn't fit here, pretty boy."

"What makes you think that?"

Nyma fiddled closer towards Lance, occasionally glancing towards the ruckus that was coming down between some blokes at a few tables behind.

"Are you honestly asking that?"

"- Hello! Welcome, is everything okay?" A tall, dark-skinned and broad lad with a bandanna on his head butted behind Acxa, slightly pushing the woman aside. 

"Are you hiring?" Lance blurted out at the guy.

Hunk, was his name tag, gave him a puzzled look before nodding. 

"I'd like to work here."

"The pay is bad. And it's been scientifically proven that the food we serve makes you blind and impotent." 

Hunk held back a choke, turning to Acxa with an alarmed and bewildered expression. "That is so not true, why would you say that?"

"You want a rich brat in the kitchen?"

"I'll take the job!"

-

Pidge stuffed her face of chips, listening intently to the guy sitting in front of her. 

"I just need this fucking fight, mate. If I don't get it, I'll never make it to the professional league."

"We'll find a way, Keith."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" She slurped from her pop. 

"Not giving a fuck... at all." Keith sighed, "Why don't you give a fuck that you're still sitting at home behind a computer screen, taping at criminal records instead of actually in the game, with a badge -"

A laugh loudly bubbled from her throat, soda flying gracefully out the corners of her mouth. She first swallowed, cleared her throat and then with a hand over her heart she finally spoke. "I don't give two shits about the badge, Keith. I'm a fucking master. I know everything about everybody, can get anything from anybody. Don't need an FBI badge to do what I already do."

"You illegal little cunt." 

"No pain, no game? That's bull, Keef." 

"Hey, you that boxer? Keith?" Pidge and Keith were suddenly startled by the rough voice of a man calling from a table behind them. He had this tough guy look that annoyed Keith to the bone. 

"That's Mr Kogane to you, mate." Pidge replied with a heart-felt chuckle, stealing a proud glance towards her best friend. 

"Ain't your bloody mate." The man grumbled under his breath, only to continue when Keith turned towards him. "Your technique sucks." 

Keith shrugged, "Okay." 

"Technique? Seriously?" Pidge burst into laughter at that. 

"Shut up, you fucking dyke."

Keith flared at that, standing from his seat and leaving his food forgotten. "The fuck did you just call her?"

"A fucking dyke." The man stood up. 

"Hey, both of you. Cut it out." Pidge stood. 

"You wanna fucking fight? I'm gonna kick your fucking ass."

Much to Pidge's surprise, the old man lashed out the first strike. And what a miserable attempt had it been at that. She thought they looked ridiculous, a drunk old man and an angry young adult fighting at the middle of a kid's friendly diner - at noon. 

Plus she couldn't really label it as a fight. After two miserably failed drunken jabs, Keith hit the man square in the jaw and both watched as he fell to his knees. Pidge shuddered. She took Keith's arm before pulling him away. "Let's just get out of here." 

Heading towards the exit, a tan, brunette boy got in their way. 

"Hey, uh..." 

Then it kind of went something like this: Keith noticed he had blue eyes and oh, he was attractive. Pidge noticed that Keith noticed that the guy was attractive. She hid a mischievous smile behind her sweater paw while staring at the two with anticipation.

"That was pretty bad-ass... back there." The guy cleared his throat, "Do you wanna do something later?"

"Huh?"

Pidge wanted to burst. Watching Keith interact with a cute boy, was the equivalent of watching a unicorn stroll through the magical forest once every five thousand years. 

Before he had any chance to argue, cute-boy took Keith's arm and lifted his sleeve, then proceeded to scribble his phone number with a blue marker. 

"Text me." He had said. 

Keith blinked, "What's your name?"

"Lance." 

"That's it?" 

"McC - Uh, Sánchez." Lance nodded, "My last name is Sánchez. And you?"

"Not gonna say, I don't know you." 

Nyma found herself giggling after the black-haired lad and his friend left, turning to Lance with a roll to the eyes. "Do you really think you can blackmail your parents with this stunt?"

"There's really only one way to know."


	4. McClain, McClain, peculiar name.

"I can't find any Lance Sánchez anywhere, mate." 

"Lemme see, gimme it." 

Pidge took Keith's cellphone, pushing her glasses up and staring at the screen for a few seconds before sighing. "Why would he give me a fake name? I mean, he asked me out, right?"

"What're you kids doing, huh?" Krolia questioned from the kitchen counter to the pair sitting at the table. Pidge took out her laptop and browsed for about a minute, Keith and his mother breathing down her neck while she did so. 

"Lance McClain." Keith read out loud, staring at the computer screen. 

"And who's that pretty boy?"

"That's Keith's prince charming, Mrs. K."

Lance's profile page was filled with pictures of smoothies and yachts, margaritas, pool parties, gym pics and more smoothies. Not necessarily in that order.

"I have an idea." Pidge stated, turning to her friend with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Keith looked back at her dumbfoundedly. 

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Pidge looked over to Krolia, a smile playing at her lips.

"You can win him over." 

"What...?" Keith turned to both women, brows furrowed. "It's not like a rich bitch like him would fall for me anyway. Are you even listening to yourselves?"

"You don't even have to feel bad." 

"Stop talking shit, Keef." 

"You're the most handsome guy I know."

Keith laughed, "You're my mum, of course you think I'm handsome!"

Krolia sighed taking a seat between her son and Pidge. "Keith, listen." She squeezed his shoulder, "We need the money. And you can easily win him over."

Keith remained in silence, staring at the computer screen before him.

"I'm not asking you to marry him," She pushed. "Just... take a little money off him."

-

"I had never felt as humiliated as I felt today. That someone so privileged, with such a good education and whose loving and supporting parents have always had his back, would choose to trample on his own future. And his own education." 

Lance stared back at his mother with an unfazed expression. 

"It makes me furious." She added. 

"Excuse me dear, but that was not what we agreed to say -"

"You will not become a chef, that's absurd." Marco was cut off by his wife, "And that embarrassing scene at the diner. In that cheap joint, with those poor people. Lance, grow up." 

Lance's reply to his mother's scoldings was forgotten when the chime of his cellphone made him instantly look down at its screen. 

_Hey pretty boy. Meet up tomorrow?_

"Lance?"

"Oh! Uh..." He looked up from his phone, glancing away from his mother's burning stare. "Yeah. You're right, Mom. Goodnight." 

The woman stood bewildered as she watched her son walk away while typing away on his phone as if he hadn't just gotten a lecture about his questionable behaviour. 

_Sure. 2:00pm at the burger joint?_

-

Lance's first shift at the chips joint had been, without a doubt, a different experience. He quickly learnt that when Hunk - the owner of the place was gone, his employees Acxa and Ezor would manage the diner without really a care. Their lack of love for what they did, physically hurt Lance. 

"So that's for the chips. Once it beeps, take it out. Then just let it drip." 

Lance nodded, following Acxa around the kitchen and paying attention to her every move. 

"You already know Ezor," Acxa gestured towards the girl with the pink apron and the high ponytail, carrying a bag of frozen nuggets. "She makes every possible mistake you can think of." 

And Acxa was right. On her way towards the freezer, Ezor managed to drop a package of disposable cups, which then Lance proceeded to pick up. 

"Then pump some salt on them three times, like this..." He held back the urge to cringe at the added amount, smiling tightly at Acxa when she looked back his way. "And that's your doctorate. Any questions?"

Lance cleared his throat, "No, I think I got it all." 

"Good. Is that the burger you made?" 

"Yeah," he smiled proudly, "I tried something there."

Acxa stared at the burger blankly. Lance's proud stance quickly faded away when the woman smashed the burger down with her fist, only to throw it into the trash bin. "Too thick. Try again." 

-

"How do you even get a guy, Pidge?"

"Just compliment him. Compliment him all the way."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She fixed Keith's hair pulling black strands behind his ears and out of his forehead, "He looks like someone who's full of himself, that should do the trick." 

"But what if -"

She pressed her fingers to his lips, "Can you give a compliment?"

"I guess." He shrugged, Pidge sighed. 

"For fucks sake, Keith. Can you give a compliment?!" She urged, hitting him over the head. 

"Hell yes, I can give a compliment!"

"Good. Now go, go!" 

Keith pulled a beanie over his head, stepping into the diner and leaving Pidge outside. He was instantly met with blue expecting eyes watching him walk in from across the diner, sitting at a table.

"Hi...?"

"- Keith."

"Right, Keith. Please sit." 

Lance managed a tight smile whilst he carefully observed the other man awkwardly sit before him. He refrained from commenting on it, though.

"Had you been waiting long?"

"No." 

"Good," A lighthearted smirk played at Keith's lips, "'Cause a prince shouldn't have to wait." 

Absolutely nothing had ever prepared Lance for such a stupid comment. He pressed his lips together, praying to whatever god above him that they would not let him falter, that they not let him burst into laughter. And yet, Keith continued.

"Cause you're so beautiful, y'know?" _Compliments. Compliments. Compliments._ "I mean, I come in and see you sitting there and think: damn, who's this model?"

Lance let out a shaky breath nodding. "Thank you."

"No problem, that's what I thought yesterday - when you approached me. My eyes were falling off my head cause you're so beautiful," He gestured. 

Lance chuckled, "You should probably stop." 

"And your outfit -"

"Oh, no. I work here." Lance pointed towards the counter where Ezor stood, sporting the same uniform as him. 

Keith suddenly stopped. "...What?" He scanned his surroundings for a few seconds as if he didn't regularly eat at the place. "You... really work here?"

"Yeah. I'm at my lunch break." 

At Keith's sudden loss of words, Lance awkwardly shifted on his seat. "Do you want to eat something?" He asked. 

"Yeah. You?"

"Yes, maybe. What would you like?" 

A chime interrupted Keith's thoughts. It was a text message from his mum. 

_Hurry up! Grandpa will be out at 2:30pm!!_

"Fuck."

Lance's eyebrows flared up at the response, "Pardon?"

"Nothing. I was just saying how you also have uh... good character. Yeah, that you're not just some pretty flower... in the forest. You're like a cool princess." 

"...Okay." 

"Yeah."

Lance was starting to regret his life decisions when Keith caught him by surprise by grabbing at his wrist and pulling it towards him.

"Is that a watch? Oh, it's pretty cool."

"Yes." He pulled back shifting on his seat. 

"You've got so beautiful arms."

"Oh. You too," He hesitated before pointing at Keith's arms. "You've got... good arms."

For a second there, Keith relaxed and his smile seemed genuine. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm a boxer." He swung a light punch at Lance's side without thinking twice about it, earning a grunt from the boy. 

"Cool. And uh, what do you do?"

Keith's brows furrowed as he gave Lance a questioning look. "I'm a boxer." He repeated. 

Lance nodded, "And for work?"

"Boxing." 

"Cool." He sighed, looking away.

Keith shrugged along with a sheepish grin, "I'm on my way into the professional league." 

And Lance wasn't amused. He let Keith rant about how he'd broken a guy's jaw and had to take him to the hospital, finally to just reply with a straight face again. "Oh wow, that sounds exciting."

"Never mind. I'm a total basket case, and you're so... beautiful." Keith would never agree to court anyone again. He could see it in Lance's fidgety hands, he definitely was doing something wrong. 

Then Lance spotted both of his parents walking into the burger joint, looking around the place in an uncomfortable manner. They approached the table after they saw him, to which he pretended to be surprised. 

"Oh! What are you guys doing here?" Lance forced out a laugh, trying to appear as cheerful and happy as ever. He took Keith's hand in his, startling the boy at the sudden contact. "Nice of you to visit me at my new workplace." 

Mercedes and Marco both looked down at their intertwined hands. Keith took a quick look at their hands too, then focused back at Lance's face as he continued talking. 

"This is Keith. And Keith, these are my parents, Mercedes and Marco McClain." Keith caught the way Lance flinched when voicing his parents' last name, but decided against commenting about it at the moment.

"Who even is this?" Marco gestured with a glower. 

"He's Keith, we're getting to know each other." Lance smiled, pressing against the other boy's body, trying to emphasize his words. 

"You could just ask me and not talk about me as if I weren't just sitting here, sir." 

"Okay then, perhaps you could honour us with an introduction then?"

Keith chuckled, looking between Lance and his father. "I mean, he just did that. Are you like deaf, mate?" He turned to Lance, shooting him a look of disbelief. "Who is this asshole?"

"- Great! Now that we're all getting along, why don't we have some lunch?"

"We didn't come by to sit with your low-life pretend boyfriend, Lance -"

"What?" Keith turned abruptly towards Lance, "Fuck this." 

In the blink of an eye, Keith had pushed Lance off and walked out the diner in a fuss, making a ruckus on his way out. Mercedes took it as a cue to take a sit in front of her son, followed by her husband. 

"So then, you're trying to blackmail us?" She questioned, placing her hands over her lap after giving the table's surface a dirty look.

Lance pursed his lips, leaning forward. "You set up a trust fund for my future, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. The course and my apartment in Paris will be pretty expensive and so -"

"You don't seriously think that your father and I struggled for so long for you and your siblings just so you could throw it all away now, do you?

Lance clenched his fists, clenched his teeth. Saw his mother's concern flash through her eyes only for mere seconds... and then he stood up tout de suite walking for the door. 

"Oh, come on, Lance!" His father called after him with a groan. 

-

_Keith you there yet?_

_Relax mum. I'm on my way!_

Keith definitely wasn't expecting for the pretty boy to suddenly slide into his car after the hassle that went down at the diner, but man he was wrong. 

"- What's with you, mate? Get outta my car, I gotta go!"

"Hey, sorry that was kind of weird." Lance looked down at his clock before dismissing Keith's comment, "I have another half hour for lunch." He blurted out, to which Keith reacted with a rattled expression and a shake of the head. 

"Look, I've got no clue what's going on between you and your parents," Keith leaned over Lance's body to reach the car's door open, then proceeded to push him out. "But I have to pick up my grandpa now, okay?"

Lance closed the car's door with a loud thud. "I'm coming with you."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Get out of my car." Keith opened the door again, attempting to push the boy out once again. But Lance wasn't taking it. His parents were walking out of the diner, he also needed to leave now. He closed the door and turned to adjust his seat belt on. 

"I really have to go now." Every single one of Keith's words were accentuated with anger and irritation. 

"And I'm coming." Lance looked at Keith in the eyes, determined about the matter. 

Keith let out an exasperated breath before starting the engine. "Fine."


	5. Introducing: The shittiest gangster in the world.

"What's the deal with your parents anyway?"

"Nothing," Lance sighed, deciding to look out the window instead of meeting Keith's inquisitive glimpses. "It's just that," He shrugged. "You're different from all the other men I've ever met."

When Keith didn't comment anything about Lance's stupid excuse, the boy leaned forward turning the car radio's volume up. He chuckled at the song that rang and turned to Keith with a playful smile dancing on his lips. 

"You listen to Jedi Mind Tricks?"

Keith frowned, stealing a curious glance towards Lance. "You know Jedi Mind Tricks?"

Lance didn't reply and instead reached out to a stack of CD's that lay over the car's glove box. He smiled again, checking out each of the CD's he had at hand. "You still have CDs? Cool." 

"Where are we picking up your grandfather? At the retirement home?" 

Once more, Keith didn't answer but instead settled for stealing interested glances at the boy every once and again, still, never taking his eyes off the road for too long. 

-

An old man with white hair and a ragged shirt tucked into his pants, walked out of the City's Jail with a skip in every step. He made his way towards Keith with a smile, opening his eyes wide at the sight of the boy. 

"Wow, Keith! You've grown up one bulky kid." 

Keith seemed unamused throughout the whole scene until the old bloke noticed Lance standing a few feet behind them, waiting next to the car.

"Oh kid, I appreciate it but," He leaned forward, turning his voice into a mere whisper. "Just gettin' out of this place, I don't think I'm ready to just get it on like that -"

"Come on, grandpa. He's not a hooker." 

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" He instantly raised his voice, looking Lance over. 

"No, he's just -"

"Fuck it, I get it." He laughed, dismissing his grandson with a shrug before walking over to Lance, who nervously observed the scene between the two. 

He approached Lance with a wide grin and offered his hand in a greeting, which the boy doubtfully took. "Hello, nice to meet you." Lance nodded. 

"Man, Keith. Ya boy's lookin' good." 

"Just shut the fuck up and get in the car, old man." 

Lance sat in the back seat behind Keith and silently watched as the men in the front bickered back and forth. He now knew that Keith's grandfather was a thief, not very good at what he did, called himself a gangster and his name was Kaz.

"Look at that." Kaz gestured to a group of dark-skinned people on the sidewalk, "What have things come to? It's like we're driving down Balsero's town or something." 

Keith sighed, "Grandpa you can't just say that." 

"Well then what do they call them now? Fairy, bitch?"

"Dunno, just call them immigrants." 

"I don't see any migrants here. Just illegals." 

Keith glanced nervously at the rearview mirror. Lance's expression said it all. He had to shut his grandpa up somehow, he was screwing it up with the dark-skinned boy sitting appalled at the backseat. 

"Look at this one right here." Kaz pointed at a man sitting on his bike next to them at the stop sign. He rolled the window down before laughing and calling out, "Hey, hey!" The guy didn't turn. "Bit shy, huh?"

"Shut up, man! Just shut the hell up." Keith's inside's fumed as he grabbed his grandpa by the collar and pulled his head inside the car again. "You're not pulling one of your stunts right now, are we clear about that? Leave people alone. You're gonna move in with us and find a job, you hear me?" 

"Wow, you've turned into a man, son." Kaz turned towards Lance, letting out a laugh. "I thought he'd be just some pussycat." 

Keith's eyebrow twitched and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "And I'll tell you what, my best friend's Italian, yeah? So watch what you say or I'll punch you in the face, you hear me? Migrants!" 

"Violence solves nothing. Plus I already have a job." 

"- Excuse me." Lance tried to interfere, sick of the loud ruckus the men were causing.

"Oh, you have a job now?"

He was bluntly ignored. 

"Yeah. Every day, for the last four years, me and my brothers... we rapped!"

"..."

"..." 

"You did what?" Keith looked almost entertained as he asked that. 

"Yes, it's uh... Well, one of my mates said I could take that as a qualification because I'm very good." 

"You're not a rapper, man."

"But I am!"

"You don't have any brothers."

"I beat those so-called gangster rappers, tough."

"You're not a rapper, you're grandpa! So for once, start behaving like a normal grandpa, man!" Keith drove into the diner's parking lot, stopping the car in front of the entrance and turning to Lance with displeasure clear in his eyes. "And you," He stated, to which Lance shifted in his seat, reaching for the car's door. "I saw your profile. I know who you are, Lance McClain. Maybe you want a real tough, trashy guy cause all those rich softies are boring,"

Kaz looked over at the two, mouth agape, eyes wide and holding back a laugh. 

"But I only came cause I need €8,000 for my next fight. Do you get that? This is no date, mate. I wanted to fleece you and that's it. But honestly, I've had it with this shit. So please, go." 

Lance huffed and let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Okay." He sighed before opening the door and getting off the vehicle. "Bye." 

Keith breathed resting his head over the steering wheel, ignoring his grandpa's staring eyes for a few seconds until the old man chuckled. "Please tell me you're fucking him."

"Shut up." 

-

Nyma wouldn't have driven to the burger joint if it hadn't been because Lance had some tea to spill over the bizarre experience he had just had. She was a sucker for love stories. She just needed to know. Everything. So that was the reason why she currently sat a table, cradling a cup of pop between her hands as she listened to her friend ramble. 

"You know, they didn't get that they had the perfect chance to kidnap you and ask for a ransom." 

"For a second I was scared. It was real trashy. He has a CD player in his car."

"Really?" Nyma laughed. "That's like super vintage." 

Lance turned to attend to a customer, his focus back to Nyma once she spoke. "So this Keith really just admitted he wanted to fleece you? Did you tell him that you need him -"

"- Lance, get the fire extinguisher!" Acxa's yell echoed from the back, followed by Ezor's loud squeals. Nyma's cellphone was ready to record when Lance lashed out to the back of the kitchen with the fire extinguisher in hand. The fire was out in just a few seconds without causing any major damages, just the chips burnt to coal on the stove. 

His shift had finished and he'd been getting ready to head back home when a notification flashed from his cellphone. He picked it up from the counter with a frown, reading the text message. 

_Hey, Lance. We've blocked your bank account and your credit cards. You're not getting a single cent until you've snapped out of it. Best of wishes, Mom and Dad._


	6. Are assholes an artsy subject, tough?

Lance walked into the bar at a slow pace. Looking around for Keith under the dim coloured lights was a challenge, but he finally did find him sitting alone at a table, arms crossed over his chest. Lance sat down in front of the man with a sigh. "Thank you for showing up." 

Keith nodded, an stoic expression upon his features. "You can't simply pretend that it's normal for a rich boy like you to listen to underground music like Jedi Mind Tricks."

The random comment caught Lance off guard and he couldn't help but laugh. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and shifted on his seat. "What happens if you don't get the money for the fight? What happens if boxing doesn't work out?"

Keith looked taken aback. "I've been training for ten years to get there. It will work out." 

Then it was Lance's turn to nod. Keith stared expectantly, waiting for the boy to talk again. But he took a while until doing so. 

"So... You wanted to fleece me? Okay. Congratulations, I'll pay for your fight." 

Keith cocked the eye at Lance's words, unsure if he had just heard correctly. 

"But I want something in return." 

"Of course." Keith mumbled unfazed. 

"I want us to pretend we are a couple. So my parents will give me something that I need of them." Lance pushed once Keith didn't reply, "I'll give you €10,000 if it works out." 

"Twenty-five." 

"What?" Lance heaved along with a chuckle, "You said €8,000." 

"Well now I say €25,000. My Mum has debts. Gimme twenty-five and it's a deal." 

"Okay." 

"Good. So how's this supposed to work?"

-

The convention centre was full of people Lance didn't even know. All of them neatly dressed, clearly here to buy from their suitcases ready, being held by their bodyguards. 

Lance walked up to his parents with a grin on his face, for a moment they wondered if he had come to his senses and so they welcomed him with a smile. 

"Oh Lance, we're glad you came!" His mother exclaimed, then gestured to the man standing between his father and her. "Remember Mr Volcker?"

"Yeah, of course! He's got incredible pictures." They shook hands. Lance's father looked somehow unsure, doubting his son's cheerfulness. 

"I just wanted to let you know, that uh... my boyfriend's coming by later. Yeah, he really likes art and stuff. I hope that's okay?"

"Of course." Mercedes gave her husband a tight smile after his response. 

"Your... your boyfriend, dear?" She questioned. 

The loud clattering of metal on the floor made everyone's attention turn towards the entrance of the convention centre, where the only metal sculpture stood - or once stood. Now laid scattered all over the floor.

"Bloody hell. Better not touch anything else, Keith." Pidge warned looking at the little pieces left on the ground. "Don't you think it's weird it broke, tough? Metal, I mean." She crouched to study the pieces. 

Lance approached the pair hurriedly, but didn't even get a chance to react and now he had Keith's hand squishing his cheeks, lips over his. Mercedes's amused smile faltered from afar by the scene. 

"Uh..." Lance looked appalled between Keith and his companion, slowly gathering his thoughts after the rough and unexpected kiss. 

"Pidge wanted to come." Keith explained.

"Very artsy here." She mentioned while standing up. 

"Is there any food?"

Lance blinked, "Yes. Over there." He guided them to the table coated with appetizers and drinks without a second thought, only to witness the way Keith pushed an old man to make himself way to reach for a plate, then fill it with every single type of bread and cookie he could see. 

On the other hand, Pidge stood in front of a set of paintings, looking at them intently before calling after Keith. "Hey, mate! Look at all these assholes!" She pointed at the biggest painting of the set, turning to the man standing beside her. "That's like the biggest asshole I've seen in my whole life. What do you say? Which asshole here speaks to you personally?"

The man seemed genuinely engrossed with what the girl was saying, "Interesting interpretation, child." 

"Mr Volcker if you'll just let me -" Mercedes was cut off by the man himself. 

"Just a second, Mrs McClain." He turned towards Pidge again, "Is there anything else you find interesting about the paintings?"

"Actually, no. I'm gonna fetch my mate over there."

A scrawny old man turned to Keith with a displeased look on his face, "Is there a problem?" Keith addressed him as soon as he noticed.

"Well yes, is this supposed to be funny?" He motioned towards Keith's plate filled over the top. "Should I pack the whole buffet for you already?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, old fart."

"Now, now young man, should you really go around -"

Keith smashed his plate against the floor and about seventy pair of eyes followed the vehement sound along with their gasps. "What is it with you old people always giving out orders, huh?!"

When the man put on a fighting stance, Keith barked out a laugh and did the same. Lance stepped in with worry etched to his features. "Okay, you should probably calm down. He's just an old man." 

"Wanna fight?" Keith held his stance. 

Marco called the guards into the matter, a pair of bulky men about to step in until Pidge called, "Uh... Keef? We should leave." 

Keith turned towards the guards and opted for throwing each one a plate, thus giving them a distraction and enough time for him to leap away, leaving Lance at the convention centre just standing their mouth agape while he scanned his surroundings, people staring at him from every single corner of the room. 

Pidge and Keith had fled, and now his mother gave him a disappointing look from across the room. She was most likely fuming and he needed to bail from the scene. Luckily, they were waiting for him outside standing near Keith's car. 

-

"I learned a lot about art today." 

"Well the plan should work, I hope." Lance snickered from the backseat between Keith and Pidge.

"So we have a deal then?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm calling Shiro." 

Shiro picked up after a few rings, boisterous noise in the background of the call. "Keith, what's up?"

"I'm getting the money, coach. Set up the fight."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, mate."

"How'd you find all the money?"

"Don't ask, just arrange the fight. It was €8,000 upfront, right? You'll have it tomorrow." 

"That's fucking great! Oh, Keith, by the way. Are you supposed to meet up with your grandfather or what?"

Keith blinked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm a bouncer at this hip hop party and I just saw him walk in, so I thought -"

"That fucking dotard don't know when to stop." Keith hangs up the phone and changed directions abruptly, making the car's tires screech - as well as Lance from the back.

-

"Mercedes it's... it's completely normal that -"

The woman laughed, "Completely normal, exactly. It's quite normal for a spoiled teenager to go wild, take drugs, mess around and want to become a chef." 

"What I wanted to say..." Marco sighed, "Is that it is completely normal if you're afraid that Lance will turn out like... your..."

Mercedes cocked her head to the side, daring her husband to continue his sentence. "My what?" She questioned. 

He glanced away, "My life experience is telling me that -"

"- You have the life experience of a trust fund baby." She stated, "You live here to increase your father's wealth. Why do you think that you of all people can tell me -"

"Because I can empathize better with Lance than you do! And that's why I think it's important that you... tell him." 

"You're sleeping in the green room. I've had enough."


	7. Under pressure.

"Where is he?"

Shiro shrugged stepping aside, "I don't know. Somewhere inside, look for him." 

It wasn't the sort of place Lance would usually attend to, but then again, he also wouldn't have gone to jail to pick up anyone if it didn't cause he kept hanging out with Keith. He had tried to stay close when they entered, but he had failed to do so. 

The place was crowded with people nodding their heads to the beat and looking towards the stage where a black woman stood, mic in hand and rapping away. Keith found his grandpa almost at the front, nodding along to the song. 

He leaned towards his ear, grabbing his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting my career started, boy." 

"Starting your career? Man, they know me here, this is fucking embarrassing, grandpa."

Kaz shrugged looking at his grandson, "Did you not see the movie 8 Mile?"

"No, no, no. Grandpa this is no 8 Mile here. You're coming with me, I beg you."

"Stop that, Keith. I'm doing it anyway." 

When Lance got to the trio, a man on the stage was already calling for Kaz and Keith looked like he wanted to die, but Lance knew it'd be mean to laugh, so he didn't. 

"And you can lift your hands, cause next up is Big Dick!" The crowd cheered as a man got on stage lifting his fists in the air. "You'll be battling Legend today, head to head." 

"Is there a legend here?" Big Dick asked over the microphone, the crowd cheering back. 

The stage host chuckled, "Yeah. Legend come forward wherever you are." 

"Legend? Where's Legend? Lemme put ya back in ya place."

Keith gripped Kaz's shoulder one last time, "Grandpa please don't go up there." 

Kaz shrugged him off, walking up the stage. 

"You're Legend?" The host faltered looking at the old bloke. 

"You're at the wrong place, Legend. Dinosaurs belong at the museum, this is battling." Big Dick laughed. 

"Are you a rapper? Can I be honest with you?"

Kaz took the mic from the host in a quick movement, "Dunno, can you? Or you're too fucking stupid?"

When the crowd started to laugh, Pidge looked over a Keith and gave him a pat in the back. "Let's see what he can do. Leave him be, Keef." 

The stage host joined the crowd and took another microphone from beside while nodding his head. "Okay, Okay. Big Dick, you start, Legend you follow. Give 'em a beat!"

"This is your last meal, bitch!" Then Big Dick started, "Looks like this old fart must be from -" Big Dick didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, for Kaz threw a punch at his face and stopped the battle of all sudden, making the crowd gasp and holler. 

Lance stood startled, eyebrows raised. Pidge didn't hold her laugh back but hugged her friend from behind when she saw him take a step forward towards the stage. 

"Wait, wait." She had said.

Keith groaned and hid his face behind his hands in shame as people who knew him started to steal glances towards them. 

"What's the matter with you, old man?" The host got between the rappers.

"Nothing, nothing. It was just a slip, don't be a girl and keep going!"

"You lucky we on the stage, old man." Big Dick answered shaking his head. 

"Okay, okay! Bring the beat back." The host complied to the crowds roaring. 

"Grandpa seems to have escaped from the retirement home. Do you even know what this is? It's called a microphone. That's what I use to fuck my enemies without a condom, then I jump over them and onto my throne. Do you understand what I'm saying, is your hearing aid on? If not then you can read my lips: come on and suck my dick."

"Okay, people, okay." The stage host took the microphone from Big Dick, "Make some noise!"

Keith turned to Pidge with an unreadable expression and pulled at her wrist. "Let's go." 

"You kidding?" She looked up to him in disbelief, "I'm staying, I'm enjoying this." 

"You call me an old fart and you're absolutely right, 'cause I fucked your granny at the times of Bertolt Brecht. I was a hippie in the '60s, fucked your auntie on LSD, call me uncle Legend 'cause I know she still loves me. When we first met, brother, you were still inside your mother and since you met my cock that often, you were born a cocksucker. When the wall came down, you were ugly and small. And then your sister came along, I didn't get her though 'cause that would've been too wild. I wouldn't go that low, can't fuck my own child." 

The crowd screamed and clapped at the old man at the stage, Lance and Pidge joined in while laughing at Keith's astonished state. 

"I don't think anybody expected that." The host chortled, "We'll decide the winner on the second round, yeah -"

"Okay, but first I'm gonna get a drink with my grandson over there." Kaz gave back the microphone before stepping off the stage. 

"Hey, hey! But you're coming back, right?"

-

"What's with your mood, mate? Smile a bit, that was such a cool show. Man, I wish my grandpa was that dope. Give him a chance, he's even getting us coldie's." Pidge turned to Kaz when the old man walked up to them and took the cold one he'd been offering. "How sick was that, man? Bertolt Brecht, who even is that?"

"Who exactly is this fucking fairy next to you?" Kaz gestured to Pidge with his beer.

"They don't say that anymore, man. They say, hipster." 

Keith chuckled, "This is Pidge." 

"Hey, Pidge." Kaz took a gulp of his beer.

"Nice meeting you, grandpa K." 

Lance walked back to the trio with a card in his hand, "I just got the video from the guy who filmed it. And a friend of mine, James Griffin is a PR manager, you should totally give him a call, he loves stuff like that." 

Kaz took the card and squinted at it under the dim lighting for a few seconds, "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about, but sure. Why not?"

After the old man left to get another cold one, Pidge followed behind, deciding to give Keith and Lance some space for themselves. 

"He was really good, don't you think? I mean, his age... and he reacted spontaneously against that guy. Your grandpa is pretty smart." Lance chuckled with a shrug, slightly glancing away from Keith's eyes. 

Keith cracked up a boisterous laugh. "Yeah, right. He's been insulting people his whole life, he's ought to be good at that." 

"No, I mean. He's actually really clever."

"Look, he went to jail for shooting someone in the foot. He should've been out in two years, but he beat someone up and got another two. Then he was out for a week, couldn't deal with it so he assaulted the post office. It wasn't even a bank, just a post office, and he stole fucking stamps. He's been fourteen years in jail for stupid shit." He chuckled, then sighed. "Does that sound like a smart person to you?"

And Lance couldn't reply. He felt his cheeks heating up, he felt embarrassed now standing there tongue-tied. 

Keith pursed his lips, a shiver running up his spine. After a few seconds, he finally broke the silence between them, "You gonna transfer me the money now?"

"Oh, uh..." Lance snapped out of the trance, "I need to talk to you about that."

Keith's expression darkened in the blink of an eye. "What?"

"My parents have blocked my accounts..."

"What was that?" Keith leaned closer to Lance in an attempt to listen clearly.

"I don't have the money. B- But we'll manage!"

"Are you fucking with me? You fucking better be, I need the money for the day after tomorrow!"

"No, no, um..." Lance felt stupid for not having expected Keith to react in such a way, he knew he was lucky the lad wasn't smashing his pretty face in. "Let's go to my house now and then -"

"- And then what?"

"We just need to put a little more pressure on them." 

-

The floor creaked as the two stepped into the garage of the McClain household. 

"This is the only way to sneak in unseen." 

"Turn on the lights."

"No."

"Can't you turn on the lights for just a damn second?"

Lance sighed and hit the switch. The lights turned on, one by one starting from the back of the room, lighting up the display of classical cars of all colours, shapes, and sizes. 

"Fuck me." Keith breathed in astonishment at the sight in front of him. 

"Maybe upstairs. Now, let's go." Lance took Keith's hand in his, leading him through the house until they reached the place he had in mind. 

Keith's eyes scanned around the room with curiosity, looking at the paintings, sculptures and objects in their exhibits. He stood beside Lance, holding every framed picture he gave him while he read it's pricing aloud, searching for the right one.

"I know it was here, let me just -" He sighed, checking for the prices once more. "Here it is! Twenty-five thousand." 

When he tried to take the stack of pictures away from Keith, the guy held on to them tightly in a playful manner until Lance started laughing. "Okay, really just let them go." When Keith did as told, Lance handed him the picture worth the twenty-five thousand euros. "If anything goes wrong, I'll smuggle these out and you'll get your money, okay?"

Keith nodded.

"Why is your mother in debt?" Lance dared to ask. 

"We have a gas station. She's €14,000 in the hole, I owe the bank €3,000 for that too."

"You took out a loan for it?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "The gas station is all she's got - whoa, what's that?"

Lance turned to where Keith had gestured and let out a chuckle. "Antique sex toys." 

Keith picked up a sex toy that had a pair of bells hanging and felt the urge to shake it, causing the bells to clink softly. He laughed. "The dildo's I get, but this...?" 

Lance laughed along, "I have no idea, but you can give it a try." He joked. 

After Keith put the object back in its place, he followed Lance throughout the house, looking around like a kid in a toy store. 

"This place is fucking massive." He mumbled.

Lance sighed, stopping in front of the doorway that would lead them into the living room. 

"Where are your parents?"

"We'll need to draw a little attention to ourselves." 

"I don't really want to push you into anything -"

"No, no. It's good. You need your money, we'll just put up a show."

"Okay, let's practice." 

"Practice -?"

Keith's first mistake, was leaning in too soon. Lance hit his head with the wall when backing away too quickly. Keith's brows furrowed, he stepped back. "Do you not want to? It was your idea but we can -"

"Can you please kiss me really trashy?"

Keith seemed amused as a smile etched on his lips, "What?"

"Yeah. You know like... I don't know, be loud, trashy." 

"Uh... no. I can only kiss well, I'm sorry." 

Lance scoffed laughing, "You know what I mean, like - " 

Before Lance finished his explanation, Keith was kissing him once more. After a few more kisses, Lance pushed him away again. 

"What now?" Keith laughed.

"Why are you pressing me against the door? You... You kiss funny." 

Keith looked butt-hurt for a second there, he took a moment to reply. "I do not kiss funny. I had a boyfriend once, he didn't even like me. He was just with me 'cause I kiss so well."

Lance snorted, "Okay, congratulations."

"I know. Thank you." 

"Okay." Lance sighed in defeat. "Push me against the stupid door." 

It had started out as an uncomfortable make-out session. All kind of sticky and wet noises bothered Lance. Eventually, he started to enjoy it, he hadn't even realized his breathing had quickened until Keith pressed against him and let out a shaky moan escape from his lips. The sound made Lance want to... he needed to hear it again. So he pressed against him this time. And Keith did moan, but he suddenly parted. Lips raw pink. 

"Okay, it works. Good." He cleared his throat avoiding Lance's gaze. 

The sound of a vehicle in the driveway snapped Lance out of his trance of magical lust. "To the sofa, to the sofa! Keith, get to the sofa!" He frantically made his way to the sofa before Keith did, throwing the pillows to the floor to allow themselves some space. 

When Lance turned for Keith, he caught the guy about to take his pants off, to which he panicked. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"At least take off your shirt too." 

"Fine! But don't take your pants off!" 

Keith pushed him onto the sofa, both grunting while they struggled to find a comfortable position as quickly as possible. 

"What are you doing?" Keith asked desperately, trying to get Lance's knee off his chest. 

"I'm taking off my shoes!" He laughed before throwing his sneakers across the room. Keith laughed too, finally managing to get comfortable between Lance's legs.

"Wait no, I want to be top!" 

"Are you serious?" 

"Yes." 

Keith sighed. "Okay, quick!" 

They shifted positions between grunts and giggles until it was finally Lance over Keith, the latter's chest heaving fiercely. "Are you okay?" Lance questioned.

Keith swallowed and nodded, "Yeah."

"Is this the dumbest thing you've ever done?"

"I once drove backwards through a drive thru."

"What?" And Lance was laughing all over again. 

When they heard the door unlock, Lance leaned forward to kiss Keith. He started grinding against him while they continued to kiss, and didn't expect for Keith's breath to hitch and actually moan. 

Lance's father stopped by the doorway, watching uncomfortably at the scene. But a very small side of him was at ease - at least his son was a top, he could live with that. 

Keith let out puffy breaths and a moan now and then, gripping tightly at Lance's back. It sounded all so real to Lance, he had to admit, Keith was an impeccable actor. Maybe Lance took it too far when he sped up his thrusts, for, after Keith's yelp, his father came barging into the living room, making his presence known with a scold. 

"Okay, that's enough. Stop it, you two." 

Lance parted from Keith, leaving the boy laying out of breath on the sofa. His legs felt like jelly, Lance was too perfect, he definitely wasn't expecting that when he let him on top.

"You can't come in just like that, you have to knock!" 

"That's enough, Charles! I can do whatever I want, this is my house!" Marco walked up to the boys on the sofa and pulled his son up and away from Keith, who immediately stood up too. "This ape -"

"Keith and I are a couple. Deal with it." 

"You can't fool me, son."

"You don't believe we're a couple?"

Marco turned to Keith as a last resource, "Get out of my house!"

"No! Keith stays here." Lance demanded, stepping between the two. "Just because two people are in love, and choose to be together. Yes, Dad. Believe it or not, some people are with other people because they actually love them. I know that's against your system, but -" 

Lance had skipped his father's hit by barely an inch, and by the next second, Keith had the man pressed against the wall with his own fist held up high. He would've smashed his face if it hadn't been because Lance held his arm back. 

"No, no. Keith, don't hit him! I'm okay!"

Marco seemed ashamed of himself, he couldn't stop shaking his head. He looked at his son with guilt in his eyes, truly glad that he had missed the hit. "Lance, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I just..." 

They'd both crossed a line and knew it. But Lance refused to just give in like that. "I'm moving in with Keith." 

"What?" Keith turned to Lance, only to see him putting his button-up back on and grabbing his shoes from the floor. Keith picked his shirt up too before following after. 


	8. The mum glare is a death glare.

The ride to Keith's apartment complex was completely silent. Lance sat staring out the window with a stoic expression etched to his face, tight grip on Keith's hand as the boy drove.

Keith had never been good at comforting people or expressing his own feelings, so at the moment he just settled for caressing Lance's hand with his thumb and let him latch on to it. If that was what Lance needed, then so be it.

The boys walked into the apartment quietly, Keith reached for the light switch and immediately turned towards Lance when he heard him gasp loudly. He had his hand over his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the black-haired woman standing in front of them in her sleeping gown and a beer in her hand.

"Oh, hi mum." Keith sighed. "Mum, Lance. Lance, this is Krolia." 

"Hello," Lance stepped forward offering a handshake to the woman, who was clearly judging him by the way her eyes slowly scanned from his messy brown hair and tear-stained cheeks to his colourful button-up and expensive-looking sneakers. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

She took her time before finally shaking his hand, "Mhmm." 

"Hey, over here." Keith called softly, pulling Lance by his arm towards his own bedroom.

"She had this death glare." Lance let out an exhausted breath while looking around Keith's bedroom. The dishevelled old bookshelf on the corner, the boxing gear scattered next to the bed, dirty windows, music posters, empty beer bottles, messy bed sheets and the list went on and on. He'd be lying if he said he felt comfortable. 

"That's just how she always looks, don't worry about her." 

_Hey, Nyma. Can I crash at your place?_

"You can sleep here," Keith accommodated the bed quickly, fluffing up the pillow. "And I can sleep on the couch." 

Lance sent the text message, keeping his cellphone in his back pocket afterwards. 

"What is it that you want from your parents, Lance? Is it money?"

"They set up an account for when I turn twenty-five, but I need the money now because..." Lance watched as Keith changed the bedsheets to a clean set for him to sleep in. He was starting to feel slightly guilty. "Because I don't want to go to college. I want to be a chef." 

"Oh," Keith turned to him with his eyebrows raised and nodded. "Very cool."

"Yeah..." Lance nodded too, invisible weight coming off his shoulders when he realized that Keith wasn't going to mock him for what he had just confessed. "I think I would really enjoy doing that."

"Sure, it's a really great profession." 

A smile slowly made it's way to Lance's lips until he was almost beaming, watching as Keith looked for some more blankets. 

"Thanks. For not making fun at my problems." 

Keith snickered, "You're just confirming my theory, though. Rich people are too dumb to be happy."

"Oh? Okay, then please explain why I'm unhappy...?"

"When you're rich, you can do anything you want. But you don't cause you're a bunch of butt heads." 

Lance laughed, "I am doing what I want. I'm going to a culinary school in Paris." 

"Maybe you can cook something here." Keith offered. "But we only have shit." 

-

Keith wasn't lying when he said that they only had "shit." He took out from the fridge some peppers, a packet of cheese, potatoes. A few random more ingredients and then a box of corn flakes and ketchup to feed his own humour. 

"I have no idea if these spices are still any good." Keith put some jars with different spices on the counter next to Lance.

"Okay. Challenge accepted."

He really enjoyed listening to Krolia's and Keith's conversation while he cooked. He already thought of it entertaining as could be with only those two members of the Kogane family, but he was proven wrong when Keith's grandfather came into the picture. 

"I am officially gay." He had claimed as he entered the apartment, heading for the kitchen. 

"Well hello, grandpa. A gay rapper." Keith wasn't even fazed. 

"I waited in the optician for over forty-five minutes, and then they let in a lesbian first. So if I have to be gay to be attended to, then it's totally fine with me. I'm fucking gay." 

"I'm sure they just thought you were homeless, grandpa."

"Hey, you weren't there." Kaz looked over to Lance, "By the way, the PR lad thought my video was cool. He watched it somewhere, in the inter-web or something."

"Oh, yeah?" Lance gave the old man a genuine smile. "That's awesome." 

It only took a little while longer before the plates were served and taken to the table. Keith had started to dig in without any hesitation, but Kaz looked at the dish with a glare before bluntly commenting: 

"I spent fourteen years in jail, but this is the ugliest looking meal I've ever seen."

Krolia kicked him from under the table, "You're not allowed to say anything else before you try it, Dad." 

"It's actually good." Keith spoke, taking another spoonful to his mouth. 

"Yeah, it is." Krolia added after a few seconds. 

Lance waited anxiously for Kaz to try it. And when he did, his nod was enough for Lance to cheer up again. "This shit isn't bad. How'd you do that?"

"It's really good."

"Thank you."

"Hey," Kaz called for Lance. "Can I get a second plate of this?"

"Sure. There's enough." 

-

Lance laid awake, sprawled over the bedsheets. And he tried, he really did try to fall asleep. But the verdigris in the wall at the corner of the room kept giving him a dirty look and the place was getting too hot and humid for his liking. 

He had three missed calls from his father and a text message from his friend. 

_Sure thing, pick you up?_

_Yes please. Here's the address..._

So that's how he ended up staying the night wrapped up with Nyma under white silk blankets and a sweet scent of coconut in the air, instead of putting up with the mossy smell and itchy bed sheets. He'd just meet up with Keith in the morning. 

-

"My friend's grandmother passed away last night. I had to leave, I didn't want to wake you." 

"Shit. Emotional support, huh?"

"Yeah. I couldn't just leave her."

Lance observed the way Keith coated his toast with peanut butter spread with a slight grimace. He couldn't help but laugh with a shake of his head, "Do you always put bread on your peanut butter, or...?"

"Sometimes." Keith laughed back.

The waitress finally showed up with Lance's cappuccino, which he eagerly took. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked, setting the cup down.

"Oh, I just realized something."

"What?"

"You're an asshole." Lance nervously chuckled at Keith's blunt statement. "It's true, though. You're totally unfriendly. You don't say enjoy your meal, you don't say cheers, you don't say bless you when someone sneezes. I thought that the rich were at least friendly." 

"She didn't even notice that I didn't respond, she doesn't actually care."

"So you're just an asshole cause you assume that everyone else is assholes too."

"I just can't say something like that, I've never could. Like bon appétit, for instance, like, huh?" Keith simply observed with a fond look in his eyes. "Do you know what my parents do when they drink wine? They go -"Lance raised his coffee cup and clinked it against Keith's glass of orange juice. "À votre santé." 

"Oh, wow. You're right, it's disgusting. I hate Chinese." 

"Right? And when someone sneezes, I rather say 'sneeze softer' it's disgusting -" Lance stopped, shooting Keith a quizzical look. "Oh my god, you're just mocking me!"

"I can count letters."

Lance snorted, "I don't get how that's related."

"It isn't. You told me something strange, now I'm telling you something strange."

"What do you mean by 'counting letters'?"

Keith spoke with a mouthful, "Say a word." 

"Uh... word." He rolled his eyes along with a shrug. 

"A longer word, tough."

"Uh... acknowledge."

"Eleven." Keith answered firmly in just about two seconds or so. 

"Eleven what? Letters?"

"Mhmm." 

"Umm... Cheiloproclitic." 

Keith glared, "It has to be a word I know. What does that even mean?"

"Attraction to lips." Lance instantly replied, to which Keith smirked. 

"I cheiloproclitic you then."

Lance barked out a laugh, "That's not how it's used. Approximately." 

"Thirteen." 

"Incomprehensibility." He leaned forward, resting his elbows over the table. 

"Twenty." 

"Peanut-butter-resistant." 

"Double t's?"

"Yeah."

"Twenty-one." 

Lance wrote the word in his cellphone to count the letters himself, only to look up aghast when Keith turned out to be correct. "...What?"

Keith shrugged with a sheepish smile. "I don't know how I do it, it's just like a - like a compulsion or some shit. Remember that stupid show... what was it called?"

"Wanna bet?"

"Yeah, that game show. I always wanted to be on it as a kid." He chuckled, "I mean, what else can you use letter-counting compulsion for?" 

Lance nodded but said nothing regarding the subject, simply watched as Keith stuffed another toast into his mouth. 

"What're you lookin' at me for?"

"You take after your grandfather." 

Keith choked. Lance felt uneasy for a second when the boy broke into a fit of coughing, so he offered him a glass of water from which he took a gulp. 

"I hope that just means you think I'm intelligent too." 

"Well I mean... If you and your grandfather had grown up with the same privileges as me, with all the money and school - I don't know! You'd probably be studying astrophysics and not just doing that boxing shit, get it?"

"Boxing shit?" Keith cocked his head to the side, "What are you talking about? I don't just do shit, I box for a living. Let me show you, c'mon." 

Lance watched as Keith stood up from the chair and walked out of the coffee shop, evidently expecting him to follow. So he did.

-

"We were featured in the _Money Talks Magazine,_ among the fifty richest families in the country. That's like begging people to sue us, Mercedes! I've already called the lawyers for this, but why must it be happening right when Lance's tagging along with that low-life in the streets, practically a sitting duck for kidnappers?" 

Marco talked to his wife over the phone awaiting desperately for her response, but instead got interrupted by one of his lawyers walking into his office. 

"This is pretty funny news, Sir. We miscalculated. You probably have around twenty-seven billion -"

"No, no. Shut up, don't make us any richer. I just want to make us regular, boring millionaires!"

"Marco," Mercedes talked over the phone. "I'm sorry, you want to give him €3,000 a month?"

"Yes. And if he agrees to go to college, we'll get him the best culinary course - near the university."

"Fine," Mercedes sighed. "Maybe that'll knock some sense into him." 


	9. Some young lover's pash.

A few curious glances were thrown their way thanks to Lance's uncommon presence at the boxing ring. At the almost two hours that they'd been there, Lance had definitely improved, but Keith thought he still had so much to work on. His blows were fast, but his knees were weak. 

"Left, right. Good, that's good. But where's your cover, pretty boy?"

Keith laughed when Lance tried to get him in the face and miserably failed to do so. 

"Don't mess around too much, Keith. We gotta actually train." Shiro called as he walked by, leaving a pair of practice gloves laying on the ring. 

"What did he say?" Lance questioned out of breath.

"Dunno."

Pidge snickered from the corner where she sat watching her best mate play with the other boy's inexperience. He pushed him around so easily, landed quick yet careful jabs at the lad whenever he saw the chance - and that was almost all the time. Lance had a pretty bad defence stance. But the point was that she saw. She saw the glinting look in his eyes and heard his dorky laugh and she just knew. 

Keith was in deep. 

By the time Lance decided to stop, Shiro couldn't help but look at the bloke with a murderous gaze. Keith noticed his coach's irritation, to which he pats Lance's back and sent him off with Pidge to get some water. 

"You sure you don't want any?" He'd asked, gesturing to the bag of fries that Pidge had provided him with. 

Keith shook his head, "I gotta really train now, sorry Lance." 

"Keith Kogane!" Krolia's voice echoed through the gym from the entrance making her presence known as she walked over to the ring where her son stood. "I need you to come early to the gas station today, I've got some important business to take care off and ain't leaving your grandpa in charge of the place, you hear?" 

"No, mum. I can't right now, I'm just about to start actually training -"

"Well too bad, it can't be helped. That's the way it is, it's really important." 

The staring contest between mother and son didn't take long, but it certainly didn't end the way Keith would've wanted it to. 

"Hello? Do you wanna argue with me, young man?"

"..."

Now Shiro was definitely going to kill him. 

"Okay, alright. I'll be there." 

Keith sighed as he watched the man walk away, stopping only for a second before going into his office. "I better see you training tomorrow, Kogane!" 

Lance walked up to Keith as soon as he got off the ring, offering him a bottle of water.

"You work there?"

Keith nodded, "Yeah, part-time."

"And that's... okay? I mean, with you wanting to go pro now."

"It's gotta be." He shrugged, taking his gloves off and accepting the bottle of water. 

Pidge approached the two, landing a blow at Keith's back when he turned to pick up his equipment and shove it inside his bag. "The fuck d'you want, midget?"

"Let's party tonight, mate." She turned to Lance, "You're invited too, pretty boy. Party tonight." 

He chuckled, "You just want me to pay for the drinks, but I don't have any money."

"You don't need money to party with us. I'm terribly sorry to inform you, but rich people don't know how to party." 

"I do know how to party."

"Then come join us and forget about your ten hours of beauty sleep. I'll be expecting both of you tonight, yeah?" 

-

"Just the canister today, son. Keep the change." 

Keith kept the bill inside the cash register, then proceeded to keep scrolling through his cellphone without much of a care. He looked up at the clock over one of the fridges and then scanned the empty store with a sigh. 

Krolia wouldn't even know if he just closed early, right? So that was just what he did. Since he got to the store, all that lingered on his mind had been Shiro's furious eyes when he had failed to practice today, one more time. He needed to step up his game. The fight was in a few days now and he ought to be ready. 

His mother's car parked in front of the gas station just as he was locking up. Krolia quickly got out of the vehicle and made her way towards her son, "Keith, there's still twenty minutes until closing time! What are you doing?"

He sighed, "Nobody else is gonna come by and I'm just gonna hang out with my mates now."

"You're going out? Great! Where's the party, Keith?"

As Kaz got out of the car, Keith took it as an opportunity to shut the car's door behind his grandpa, "There's no party for you, man!" 

"Of course there is, there's something to celebrate." 

The two fought over the door, one trying to pull it open while the other tried to push it closed. Krolia observed undisturbed.

"I got a record deal!"

"Oh shut the fuck up, don't gimme that shit." 

"No shit. A record deal and a producer." 

Keith stopped wrestling over the door, looking at the old man with sudden realization. "You're really not fucking 'round?"

"I got a record deal!" Grandpa repeated, this time hands in the air. 

"Fair dinkum?"

"Let's get shitfaced!"

-

Pidge's alcohol resistance would never cease to amaze anyone around her. For Lance, this was his first time watching her down a bottle of vodka and then have her walking around as if nothing had just happened. It just wasn't realistic. Surely she had an ace down her sleeve.

"Why are you smiling?" Lance tried to speak over the music by leaning into her ear.

She pointed towards a group of girls fooling around and laughing, "A girl from over there just gave me her number!" She yelled back. 

Lance stared at the group of ladies for a moment, without missing grandpa Kaz and Keith pretending to train at the boxing ring. "They're pissed as fuck." Pidge mentioned after following Lance's line of view. He nodded. 

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know you were gay." 

Pidge laughed, "I'm not."

Lance blinked in confusion, "Then what are you gonna do about the chick?"

"Nothing. Can't I be happy that someone considered me attractive? Geez, Lance. Relax, go hang out with your boyfriend." 

"- Lance, hey Lance." 

Lance hadn't had the chance to correct Pidge and now he had a pissed Keith whispering in his ear like some creep. He turned to him, steadying him by the hips. Keith didn't seem bothered by it, in fact, he just ignored Lance's grip and started his own conversation. 

"D'you wanna know something?"

"What?" 

"There's this cool boxing management down at... Frankfurt. Uh." He smirked, " Hey, why are you lookin' at me like that? I mean, what'd you... Stop laughing, Lance. I'm trying to talk here."

"I'm not laughing, Keith." And it was true. But holding a drunk Keith that slurred on his words and wouldn't stop looking at him in the eye, flustered him and wouldn't let his amused smile falter. "What about the cool boxing management?"

"Oh, right. I can't remember what I was gonna say anymore."

"Okay." 

"Yeah." 

Without any warnings, Keith pressed his body to his's and continued to kiss him. He didn't stop him but rather traced Keith's torso with his hands, only to return to his hips once more when his body started to tumble towards the side. Lance did laugh at that this time. 

Keith was heaving when they parted from the kiss but didn't completely push away. He hid his face at the crook of Lance's neck, his member twitching against his jeans at the sudden contact of Keith's grinding.

"The other day Lance," He breathed. "The other day you made it feel so good. Do that again." 

"As much as I'd like to, Keith. You're drunk and we're also not in the right place." 

"Nothing's gonna happen between us anyway. We might as well make out, Lance."

-

Lance's parents sat at their bedroom watching a video sent by Hector of their son at a club making out with that kid Keith. Mercedes observed, mouth agape as the black-haired guy sat grinding over her son, even more, appalled when Lance cradled his hips so naturally to grind back against him, tongues down each other's throat - She looked away.

"This is completely staged, Marco. It's obvious, Lance knows he's being watched. He's just trying to spite us. Look at him, for god's sake!" 

"I'm afraid it may not be staged, Mercedes." Marco sighed looking away from the computer screen. 

"How can you even say that?" She cried, "Lance would never, ever like such an under-educated, irresponsible, dangerous and promiscuous man!"

Marco decided to refrain himself from making any more comments to his wife, for he was too trying not to buy into Lance's little blackmail game. 

-

They walked into the Kogane's apartment causing a ruckus that grandpa Kaz's would've certainly been proud of. But to their luck, Krolia was the one waiting up for her son to come home safely, not Kaz.

"Are you boys out of your minds? What's the matter with you? You're fucking pissed!"

"Go back to bed, you old hag. Don't be such a -" Keith tripped over the rug and fell to his knees, to which Lance burst into laughter, Keith joining the laughing fit too not so long after. 

"Do you even know what time it is? It's late." She attempted to pick her son up from the floor but gave up on the matter when Lance tried to help and fell over as well. "You're gonna be at the gas station in the morning, no matter what state you're in tomorrow, you hear me?"

"Hey, Lance." Keith mumbled, "Why'd you take your shirt off?"

"Well because's hot! What kind of stupid question's that?"

Krolia looked spiritless at both boys facing each other on the floor before sighing and heading for her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

"I love your mom but I think she doesn't love me."

"- Of course my mum loves you." Keith exclaimed, sitting up. "She just has a problem with Illuminati."

"What?" Lance chuckled and proceeded to mimic Keith's actions. "I'm not Illuminati!"

"All millionaires are Illuminati, Lance!"

Lance let out a strident laugh, "No. You're just jealous we're rich and you're not. Go cry. And besides, we are billionaires, bitch -!"

"Whoa, what the fuck, Lance?!" Keith looked down at his vomit splattered t-shirt scrunching up his nose. He let his cellphone aside and scurried the coughing boy to the bathroom, where he continued to puke all remains of alcohol from his stomach. 

Keith was sober enough to clean Lance's chin with paper towels, and by the time he found himself brushing Lance's teeth, said boy had sobered up enough too. 

He took the toothbrush from Keith's hand and pushed him away. "I can do it, go away." 

Keith chuckled. "Okay. I'm gonna get some water."

Lance nodded. 

"I'll be in my room." 

When Lance stepped into the bedroom himself, he stared at Keith's body laying on the bed, occupying most of it at that. He sighed, contemplating on taking the couch as Keith had done last time. But by the time he had decided, it was too late. 

Keith was looking at him as he stood by the doorway and stretched his arms towards him in a welcoming way as if he somehow expected for Lance to give in to his embrace. And he did. 

Lance climbed onto the bed covers and into Keith's arms, burying his face in the crook of the man's neck. He sighed in content, his muscles relaxing at the contact of their warm skin against each other. 

"My parents used to have a picture of them cuddled closely on the bed like this." Lance hummed. 

"Mhm?" 

"I always thought it was weird when I was a kid. I wondered if something was wrong with them, why were they lying there? They never do that." 

Lance pushed back from Keith, sitting up on his elbows to take a look at him.

Keith just watched intently at his every move without uttering a word. Didn't stop him when he leaned in to plant a kiss over his lips and continued to hover over him, leaving feathered kisses and sweet caresses over his body until he was completely smitten. Putty at his touch, naked under him. 


	10. We dug our own hole, it seems.

Not even waking up to the warm and pleasant surprise of having Lance's arms wrapped around him was enough to get him to ignore the pounding headache Keith was dealing with right now. He needed coffee. 

For a moment he stared at his reflection from the mirror hanging by the door, his cheeks heat up at the sight. His collarbone was covered with love bites, his thighs had bruises - he quickly looked away, taking a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his drawer to get dressed and fetch some coffee for Lance and him. 

A knock to the door made him stop from making his way to the kitchen. He frowned looking at the clock. It was too early yet, it couldn't be Pidge. 

He hadn't expected to be met with Lance's parents standing in the doorway of his apartment, looking at him impatiently. 

-

Lance awoke to the ruffling of his hair and gentle shaking of his shoulder. 

"Hey, Lance... Lance, wake up." 

"No, you come back here."

"Lance..." The boy chuckled after a failed attempt to grab Keith. "Your parents are here." 

"What?" He immediately sat up, head pounding, eyes wide open. 

"They're waiting at the door." 

Mercedes and Marco looked bothered by the fact that their son was very evidently sporting the other lad's clothes, for he wasn't dressed in his usual colourful button-up and jeans, but rather a ragged sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of shorts. 

Lance rested against the graffiti stained door, "What do you want?" 

Mercedes stared at him appalled, blinking a few times before letting out a sigh. "Okay, Lance. Okay. You win. Please come back home now." 

"You'll get your deposit account, all of the money." She pressed when her son didn't reply. 

He suddenly seemed interested, his features showered with realization at his parents' words. 

"But no more provocations of any kind with that boy." Marco added, "Understood? So get your stuff." 

"Uh... yeah, okay. But I'm still going to go to work today. It's only fair that I give them a heads up so they can find a new replacement." 

"Okay, fine. You're right, it's only fair." Mercedes sighed, "But this..." She gestured towards Keith standing a few feet away from Lance, subtly attentive to their conversation. "This is over. Tell me that this is over, Lance." 

It took him a few minutes to respond, but he eventually nodded. "It's over." 

"Fine." 

"Well then..." 

His parents took one more look at the place before walking away, Lance closing the door behind him and letting out a deep breath. He stood there for a few seconds, motionless. Then finally made his way to the kitchen and sat in front of Keith who already munched off a bowl of cereal. He didn't look up. 

Lance took out his cellphone and proceeded to make Keith the transference of €25,000 he had promised from the start. 

"I just deposited the money to your account." 

Keith simply nodded in acknowledgment. 

Lance cleared his throat and shifted on his seat. "Keith... are you sure that you don't want to just invest the money on your career?"

Keith snickered, "Is that supposed to be your final piece of charity?"

Lance sat speechless, taken aback. 

"Forget it."

"No, please do tell. How does the billionaire suggest that I should use my money? I mean, did you seriously just suggest that I abandon my mum?"

"You're already in debt because of her, Keith -"

"- You're not used to that, right? You've got no idea of how a family supports each other when they're going through some hard time, do you?"

"Just forget what I said."

"Okay," Keith shrugged, then gestured towards the door. "Are you leaving or...?"

"Why are you being so aggressive?" Lance spat. 

Keith clenched his jaw and looked at Lance straight in the eyes, "Because it makes me sick."

Lance blinked seeming puzzled. 

"People like you make me sick. You have no idea about my mother, who's never had anything. Whose dad's an asshole and having had to raise me on her own. You don't know what that means and still, you come strolling into our lives and then you fuckin' -!" Keith breathed in and stopped himself from bursting into a fit of anger, closed his eyes, clenched his fists over the table. 

Lance swallowed. 

"I'm sorry for what I said." He murmured. 

Keith nodded, "Cya. Take your shit and leave." 

"Keith we don't have to -"

"Hey, it's no big deal. You have your money, I have mine. That was the deal." He nodded again, "Have fun in Paris. Now leave... please." 

Lance felt pressure on his chest and a knot forming in his throat. But still did as told. Keith buried his face in his hands after he heard the door shut and then simply sat there alone, trying to even his breathing. 

"Fuck." He whispered. 

He also hoped his mum hadn't eavesdropped in between all the ruckus, he didn't want to have any explaining to do. 

-

Lance's shift at the burger joint had never felt so slow before. He mindlessly attended to costumers, Hunk at his back now and again scolding him for almost everything he did wrong. 

"How many more ice cream will you add to that?" Hunk stood before him with his arms crossed over his chest, watching with concern as ice cream started to drip from the cone Lance was holding. 

"Oh... sorry, my bad." He nervously laughed, avoiding his boss's annoyed gaze as much as possible.

"Keep at it and I'll have you cleaning the toilets, Cinderella." 

A burst of flames light up behind them from the stove just like last time, this time put out by Acxa in a frantic while Ezor simply stood dumbfounded staring at the scene she'd caused. They'd all carried on as if nothing after a few seconds. Lance's brow was twitching.

"Seriously though, how long is it gonna take until you fire her?! Until she kills someone?!" He snapped whilst being caught up in the moment, regret starting to set in when Hunk simply turned to Ezor and shrugged. 

"You're right, Lance." He turned towards the girl. "Ezor, go get changed. You're fired." 

-

Keith grunted when a blow landed to his forehead, making his head pound. 

"Take a swing, kid! Take a swing!" Shiro scolded, "Hit me! You punch like a fucking old lady!"

Pidge sat at the corner of the boxing ring with concern etched to her features. After only three more blows, Shiro had managed to hit Keith over the head again. Something was wrong, but she wouldn't dare ask now. 

"Where's your defence? Are you asleep?" 

It only took one more jab to send Keith to the floor. And there he just lay heavily panting, limbs sprawled out. Shiro shot him a look of disappointment. 

"Sendak's going to whip your arse if you fight like this. Do you understand what I'm saying here, kid? What's the matter with you?" 

-

_OVERVIEW OF FINANCES._

_2.813.401,35€_

Lance let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding while staring at his computer screen. He hovered over the Cordon Bleu website before finally deciding against it. 

_Anonymous donation._ _Ezor Rizzi. Transference accepted._

 _LEGEND - Illegals everywhere._ Lance chuckled at Kaz and Pidge on the click-bait, then proceeded to click on the video. He'd been only a few seconds into the song when the image of Keith flashed before his eyes. It had been a tiring day, he couldn't get his pained expression off his mind and that had been his fault. 

Nyma got to his place only a few minutes after he'd called. They sat huddled on his bed while watching random cat videos with tense silence in the air. 

"Two point eight-million euros." 

"Yeah? Happy?" She smiled. 

Lance took a few seconds to reply, "Keith's bedroom has mould. His grandpa is a criminal. His mother probably hates me cause she's a disaster herself. I could never - Just, I could never be with someone like Keith!"

Nyma nodded without uttering a single word. 

"So why do I miss him?" 

"It's... It's probably just hormones. Or also a triggered metabolic dysfunction in your brain - also known as having a crush. It happens, and it eventually goes away. Just give it some time." 

Lance sighed, "You're right. I hope it goes away by tomorrow, though. I need to forget about him quickly. This is no good." 


	11. Some things come back around and bite you in the ass.

In Shiro's eyes, every punch thrown by Keith towards the heavy bag was sloppy and lacking greatly of technique. 

One thud, three thuds, a grunt and one more thud.

"Really, Keith. This won't do." 

Keith looked up at Shiro while pacing on his feet, then tried to focus again on the punching bag delivering one more blow before the man stopped him. 

"This isn't working," Shiro shook his head. "You're my boy. You think I'm gonna send you off to the ring like this? You're gonna get your ass kicked." 

"It's all good." 

Shiro stopped him again, "No, it's not. Presley wasn't a boxer, wanna know why? When the heart beats fast, the fist moves slow. There's no space for love in the ring, Keith. Snap out of it." 

"Keith!" Kaz walked up to his grandson with a proud smile on his face while Shiro backed into his office once again, leaving the boy fuming in front of the heavy bag. 

"I'm an internet star!"

"I don't give a fuck, man." 

"I have a contract on the internet," Kaz followed Keith around the gym until the boy stopped in front of his locker, taking his gloves off. "- I mean, with the internet. And a label. So they opened an account for me." 

Keith watched intently. 

"I have €30,000 euros in it. Do you know what that means?"

-

He'd been waiting outside of the McClain household for about ten minutes now with no sign of Lance. He'd seen his text message, Keith was sure of it. 

It took Lance around another five minutes to walk out the door and walk over to where Keith stood, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting expectantly. 

Keith held out a yellow envelope towards Lance, "Here's your money back. I won't be needing it for the fight, my grandpa's sponsoring me." 

"That's your money, Keith." 

"I don't want your damn money!" He spat. 

"Hey," Lance laughed nervously, "There's no reason to yell at me like that. I was always honest with you -"

Keith barked out a laugh. "Honest with me, really?"

Now it was Lance's turn to raise his voice.

"Did you forget that it was you who wanted to fleece me? Not the other way around!"

"Fuck, yes! Because losing a few thousand would've killed you!"

Lance scoffed, "So now I'm a terrible person for giving you money to help me, but it's perfectly okay for you to hurt my feelings -" 

The silence was piercing for a few seconds. 

"Hurt your feelings?" Keith broke it along with a vehement laugh. "That's fucking hilarious, what feelings are you talking about, Mr. billionaire?"

"Oh, I forgot. I'm sorry. Rich people like me don't have feelings, only trashy low-life's like Keith have feelings. You have such a hard life, much." 

"I don't even know why I'm still talking to you. I don't want to see you ever again," Keith threw the envelope to Lance's chest, "I'm glad that this shit is finally over." 

"How do you think I feel -"

"You know what? I had to change my bedsheets to get that nasty smell of yours out of my bedroom."

"What?" Lance scoffed.

"Yeah, it's the truth. You fucking stink! I had to wash everything at 90° degrees along with all my sports gear -"

"Listen, Keith! You live in filth, your house smells like shit! Didn't you ever notice the moss stain in your bedroom? That is disgusting, man! Why doesn't anyone clean it?! What does your mother even do all day?!"

All that could be heard was Lance's panting between them. Keith's stare was burning him alive, at this point, Lance thought there was no turning back. 

"Fuck you, Lance." 

"Fuck you too!"

"You're fucking pathetic and unhappy and you'll be like this your entire life because you're such a shit person, you know that?"

Keith let out a breath before turning away, trying to ignore Lance's calling from behind.

"Oh yeah, and you're so damn happy with your gas-station life, huh? You know you will lose this fight against the Sudoku guy, right?"

He turned, "Sendak guy!"

"You don't even understand your own fucking coach!" Lance kept yelling even when the other boy was walking away. "Yeah, fuck you too!" He exclaimed, flipping Keith off back.

Lance walked into his house with pressure over his chest and heaving lungs, stopping immediately when noticing both of his parents casually sitting in the living room, quickly turning away when they saw him walk in.

"Were you... were you eavesdropping the whole time?"

"Lance, it's just that -"

"You're unbelievable." He'd started making his way back to his bedroom, only to stop when his mother called again.

"Lance, I know what you're going through with the boy right now -"

"Do you of all people should be giving me advice on men, though?"

"Calm down, Lance." His father warned. 

"No, tell me. How do I get a good man, a real rich one, huh?" Mercedes glanced away with a sigh, letting her son rant away. "Are there special advertisements for that? How did you find Dad?"

Marco smacked his hands over the table, "Lance!"

"Okay, let's say I'm like you and I wanna get myself a billionaire. I wouldn't have to change my name anymore. Was that enough back then? Just change your name and make it sound aristocratic because rich marry off among themselves?" 

"Okay, Lance. Enough." 

"Or did you have to get pregnant first? I don't know -" Lance gulped, "But you were pregnant during your wedding. Was Veronica your great trick to get rich?"

Mercedes looked at her son in disbelief. She stood tongue-tied for a few seconds before shaking her head. "No."

"Your life," Lance breathed. "Is a fucking lie." 

-

Mercedes entered her son's bedroom after a while of giving the boy his own space. Lance turned back towards his window as soon as he noticed her walk in, tough. 

She took a seat beside him, cradling a photo-album in between her hands. She sighed before taking out a picture of another woman and placed it in front of her son, by his feet. 

"That is your grandmother. It's the only picture I kept of her." She continued after Lance glanced at the picture. "She died early, I didn't lie about that. I was two years old when that photo was taken. She'd lock me in the car so she could go party." Mercedes nodded, pursing her lips. "The cops found me a couple of hours later and took me with them."

"I kept this photo to remind me of where I came from and why I decided to change my name. We have something in common." He looked up at her in sudden interest, "Neither of us wants to be like our mothers." 

"I'm sorry, Lance." Mercedes left the bedroom quietly afterwards, disappointed by the lack of interest her son had shown to her apology. 

Lance picked up his cellphone when he heard it chime, Nyma's name on the screen.

_Hey, Lance. I just thought you should see this._

The message contained a video attachment. 

> "What? I'm not Illuminati!"
> 
> "All millionaires are Illuminati, Lance!"
> 
> "No. You're just jealous we're rich and you're not. Go cry. And besides, we are billionaires, bitch -!"

Lance watched the video, mouth agape. "That motherfucker."

-

Krolia ran towards her son and engulfed him in a tight hug as soon as he'd stepped into the apartment. 

"We've paid all our debts, Keith! It's finally done!" She backed away with a frown, "Hello? Aren't you happy? I'm gonna go get a drink." 

Keith picked up his phone as soon as it started to ring. 

"What?" He spat, "He backed out, what do you mean?"

"What's wrong?" Krolia butted in. 

"Stop fucking with me, man." 

Krolia pressed again, "What's going -" 

"Fuck!" Keith's cellphone flew across the room, his mother standing a few feet away with worry etched to her features. 


	12. Cya later, alligator.

Acxa took a bite out of Lance's burger and proceeded to nod seemingly surprised. "It's actually good. You should totally ask Hunk to add it to the menu."

Lance looked up at her with a half-smile. "Glad you liked it."

He hadn't been in the best mood since he'd waken up this morning, but he'd also been trying his best to hide truly how irritated and annoyed he was, still upset about the hassle that went down with Keith yesterday.

Lance took a costumer's order and proceeded to hand them their receipt, turning to his co-worker when hearing her speak again.

"I think this is the first time I've ever eaten at this place." Acxa commented with a snicker.

The customer being attended by Lance gave the girl a funny look before taking their tray of food and walking away awkwardly.

Lance laughed, "You're scaring the costumers, Acxa." 

She cocked her head to the side, her nose scrunched up. "I don't think they actually care." She then sighed, gesturing towards the back of the kitchen, "We had a heavy package delivered today, would you give me a hand with it -?" 

Acxa was cut off by a deafening clang behind her. The cash register was on the floor from one second to another, a black-haired boy standing next to it with his fists tightly clenched.

Lance acted by impulse, backing away into the kitchen at Keith's sudden outburst. He looked at the boy with wide blue eyes, tongue-tied by his sudden explosive appearance at the burger joint.

"Are you fucking with me or something?! Fuck you! You paid him so he would back off, didn't you?! Are you out of your mind?!" 

For every step back that Lance took, Keith advanced two towards him.

"I'm calling the police." Acxa warned in a frenzy, backing away into the storage room in a rush.

Lance found the courage to spat back at Keith. "You uploaded a video of me puking all over, you jerk! When did you even record that?" 

"You think I'm stupid or something?" Keith huffed. "I needed to have something in case you decided to blackmail me with your stupid money!"

"I never would've blackmailed you, idiot!"

"That doesn't fucking matter anymore!" Keith clenched his jaw and fists, stopping closely in front of Lance in an attempt of staring him down. 

Lance scanned his surroundings, looking anywhere except Keith's eyes while pacing where he already stood. He took a gulp, followed by a deep breath trying to remain calm.

Realization washed over him after a few seconds. Keith already would've beat him to a pulp if he wanted to, but he hadn't. He wasn't going to. His heart pounded in his ears. 

Aware that it probably wasn't the best moment to pick another fight with Keith, Lance decided to speak softly while putting his hands out in front of him for Keith to see. "If the police catch you -"

Keith snickered, "I don't give a fuck, Lance."

Lance sighed in relief when Keith at least didn't shout back. "I won't tell them your name, but you should really go now." He insisted.

Keith took a deep breath and finally backed away. He cleared his throat and avoided Lance's gaze ashamedly. He then proceeded to walk away without an explanation, only looking down at his cellphone after it's chime. 

He'd gotten a text message from Pidge.

_Mate, grandpa's bout to get a dumbass rapper. I couldn't stop him, he just left._

Keith felt anger bubbling up his insides again. He had no way to get there in time - an idea suddenly popped into his head.

"I need your car." Keith stopped by the door, turning to Lance in a hurry.

"What?" Lance blinked puzzled at Keith's sudden change of heart.

The boy sighed, tapping his foot on the floor anxiously. "Mum has mine, give me your car."

Lance stood fidgeting with his hands, unsure about the matter.

"Grandpa's gonna get himself in jail again if I don't get there, please give me your car, Lance! Please, c'mon!"

-

"I'll smash your face in!" 

"Fuck off, stupid grandpa!" 

By the time Keith and Lance had gotten to the scene, Kaz was already attempting to corner a young lad between a wall and another bloke who stood there astounded, glancing among the two. 

The lad managed to sneak away in a swift movement, laughing his ass off as Kaz chased after him. "Give up, old fart! I'm too fast for you!" 

Keith got out of the car tripping over his feet and ran after his grandfather in a frantic. "What are you doing, man? Stop it!" He managed to grab him by the shoulders and hold him in place for a moment before they both tumbled to the ground between grunting and heavy breathing. 

"No! Let me go!" Kaz attempted to get his grandson off him by pushing away, fuming at the other young blokes laughing at the scene he was causing.

Lance stood appalled beside the car until he noticed that Kaz kept trying to get away from Keith's grasp, ashamed of the guys laughing at them.

"Keith, I don't think you should -" Lance had started, but was distracted by the snicker to his side. 

"Just give up, old man! Listen to your sugar baby!" The guy and those around him burst into laughter, causing Lance's stomach to flip in anger. He took a stance towards the group of guys.

"What are you guys even here for, huh? Enjoying the show? Get your stupid asses home before I fucking light your eyeballs on fire!" Lance's snap had taken the bloke's aback. Their laughing had settled down as they looked at Lance with concern etched to their features, eventually stepping away from the place.

Kaz kept trashing around in Keith's arms, refusing to give up on the matter.

"Stop it, man!" Keith grunted.

"Ain't taking any shit from him, idiot! Fuck them all idiots!"

Keith held him in a tight grip until the old man eventually seemed to calm down. He held his grandson in a hug, hiding his face in shame in the crook of his neck. Both boys were taken aback by the old man's action but decided not to question him about it at the moment.

"It's okay, grandpa." Keith sighed, hugging the old bloke back though his own confused state. He rubbed the man's back, looking up at Lance in a questioning way. 

Lance shrugged with a shake of his head. 

-

Lance had driven to the nearest bar they were able to find on the online map after having been able to calm Keith's grandfather from the fit he'd thrown. Now the trio sat at a table, Kaz with a beer between his hands, courtesy of Lance.

"I don't even know what fucking planet I'm living in, Keith. There are foreigners everywhere!" Kaz explained making wild gestures with his hands, anxiousness evident in his voice.

"Is that why you're going around beating up 20-year old's on the street?" Keith chuckled. "Don't you think I can't see what's going on with you?" 

Kaz looked down in shame, avoiding Keith and Lance's gaze under the bar's dim lights.

"You are scared of being outside, that's why you're rapping. And it's totally fine, it's a good coping method." Keith admitted with a shrug, "But you gotta face things head-on now, you gotta adapt. You can't go around hitting people you don't like."

"And - and what about this shit here?" Kaz gestured towards Keith's cellphone, "What's with that scrolling and liking and shit?" 

"Well that's just how people browse, grandpa."

Lance couldn't hold back an amused smile make it's way to his lips as Kaz continued to talk. "And what's that all about driving around the city with their big ass jeeps, huh? What's all that shit about?"

"I know. It makes no sense but that's the way it is -"

"Where the fuck they off to? And I have - I also have to... online... digital, an appointment -"

"You have to make an appointment online?" Keith questioned patiently.

"Yes!" Kaz perked up, "But I don't even have an ID."

"You don't even have an ID?"

"Yeah, that shit too."

Keith let out a tired sigh before nodding, "Okay. I'll help you, It's okay. We'll get you an ID."

"But you're gonna stay calm now, okay?" He added.

"Okay." Kaz nodded, then offered his grandson a smile and ruffled his hair. "What a smart ass you are, grandson."

Keith chuckled at that, pushing Kaz's hand away.

Lance silently observed the way the pair interacted with each other, a small smile making it's way to his lips. Lance enjoyed seeing this side of Keith. He wasn't being awkward or smooth or anything other than himself, like back at the coffee shop. And Lance liked that a lot. 

Kaz took the last gulp from his beer before finally standing up and looking over at the pair with a smug grin, "Alright. Cya later, queers."

Lance cleared his throat awkwardly glancing away from Keith's intense stare as Kaz walked out of the bar, leaving the two alone.

"I'm sorry about the video." Keith blurted out after a few seconds of silence between them.

He continued talking, when Lance blinked up in surprise, "I didn't want to believe that I could fall for a rich bratty kid like you. And... you don't stink, okay?"

Lance chuckled, glancing away while holding back a smile. He wasn't even angry at Keith for calling him a rich bratty kid and he didn't know why.

"I just didn't want to -" Keith pursed his lips, struggling to speak. "You smell good. Too good." He finally admitted.

"I just had never felt bad about my family before. That we buy the cheap brands or that there is mould in my room, that I'm all trashy and have no fucking clue about eating etiquette."

"That had never mattered before. And then you came along... and I felt like total trash. I'll probably always feel like trash next to you."

Lance sat aghast, tongue-tied with a heavy feeling on his chest. Keith wouldn't even meet his gaze anymore. And Lance knew it was a risky move to make, but when the boy had stood up from his seat, he'd leaned forward to wrap him in a hug.

Keith stood motionless wrapped between Lance's arms and for a few seconds didn't know what to do with his own arms. His body slowly gave in, his muscles relaxing into Lance's embrace.

Keith hugged the boy back hiding his face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his fresh scent.

Lance always wore the same cologne, it seemed, for he always smelt of the fresh ocean breeze of the beach. Keith was enamoured by Lance's scent.

Lance let out a deep breath before talking, "I'll call Sendak's manager. I'll set the fight again."

Keith nodded into the crook of Lance's neck. "I'll take down the video. I'm sorry, Lance."


	13. A weird little Lance heart.

The loud chatter of the people around him had started to nag him already and Lance hadn't even been a whole hour sitting at the table, surrounded by Nyma's friends. He hadn't been feeling up to joining the girl on the fancy breakfast at the garden of a guy he didn't even know, but she'd insisted so much that Lance had agreed to get her to shut up.

So here he sat, arms crossed over his chest along with a feed up expression, listening to the chatters around him whilst munching on strawberries off the plate in front of him.

"And that wasn't even enough to buy me a Bugatti, so I'll have to settle for a stupid hand-me-down Tesla. Like, can you believe that?"

"I'm just waiting for my Mom to deposit the money I asked for, can't wait to start the surfing course in Hawaii already."

"You got to be joking, did he really got you a panther diamond bracelet for your birthday again?"

"Yeah. I've spoken with my Dad and he seems thrilled about it. He thinks I can achieve something in the company while I'm also studying -"

"- But can you?"

"Pardon?" The guy turned towards Lance with a glare after hearing him speak out of the blue.

Lance shrugged, looking with boredom at the half-eaten strawberry between his fingers, "Can you really achieve something?" He then looked up at the man, "Regardless of what you achieve, it'll all be thanks to your grandfather's wealth. So will it ever feel like true success for you?"

The lad gave Lance a blank stare before chuckling and looking away, focusing back on the girl he was talking to in the first place, "Anyway, it's the opportunity of a lifetime, you see?"

Lance sighed in displeasure, only to return to his half-eaten strawberry.

It only took a few seconds before he'd finally gotten tired of just sitting around and listening to people's conversation's, tired enough to leave his seat and walk over to where Nyma sat talking a guy's ear off.

"I'm going to steal her from you for a second, yeah?"

Nyma looked up at him bewildered as Lance took her by the arm and pulled her up from her seat. She then followed him to another part of the garden, behind the bushes.

"Nyma you are the most intelligent person I know -"

"You poor boy." She laughed.

"I've got eight point two million euros in my account right now and I feel like crap."

Nyma shrugged, "Maybe you've caught a cold."

"Nyma I'm being serious here," Lance sighed. "I don't deserve that money, it's not like I worked for it or anything."

"Wait - What did you want the money for?"

"To take a cooking course in Paris." Lance looked puzzled at her question.

"Then what are you still doing here, Lance? Why are you not in Paris right now? There's obviously something holding you back."

Nyma continued when Lance didn't reply, "Do you know why money makes me happy, Lance? Because I have a Nyma heart. And it leaps whenever my parents give me money to spend."

"But you? You have a weird little Lance heart and it doesn't leap of joy for money. Money doesn't make it happy, but other things do, right?" She chuckled, "That was so beautiful, I'm going to post it!"

Lance stood motionless while staring at Nyma in front of him, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by understanding, a million thoughts popping into his brain at once. He blinked, focusing on the girl in front of her taking her hands in her. "Nyma you're a fucking genius! A genius!"

The girl looked up at her best friend startled by his unexpected reaction.

"I have to go make a call. Get back to your party, I won't be back any time soon!"

-

Krolia looked up as her son walked into the gas station, his training bag draped over his shoulder. The cold air surrounding the place hit Keith's warm back making him get the chills, warping his arms around himself.

"I only got two hours of training."

"Yeah? How'd it go?"

"So much better." He let out a breath of relief along with a heart-felt chuckle, "What'd you call me for, though?"

"Oh, right... Uh, that guy Lance." She glanced away, fidgeting with her hands. "I need you to get back with him."

Keith blinked aghast.

"There's some insurance thing with the electric pump - but we'll manage. We're missing €2,000. And for repairs, we'll need to invest €4,000 more... But it's not a problem, you can just go for it again, right?"

"I'm not throwing away any more money like that." Keith stated firmly, looking at his mother in the eyes with disappointment.

Keith felt pressure over his chest, did his mother think this was funny or something? But he understood, she couldn't have known Keith's heart remained sore after parting from Lance.

"I want to box, mum. Professionally. I'll need to go to Frankfurt, I need proper training and management -"

"What?" Krolia sounded distressed, "What rubbish are you going on about now?"

"It's not rubbish." He spat, "I'm not going along with this anymore."

"Calm down, Keith. What are you even saying?"

"Please, mum. Just shut down the store. Look for a job, okay?"

"What?" Krolia scoffed, following Keith out the door in a hurry.

The boy had gotten into the car and locked the door's behind him, that way avoiding Krolia from getting into the car with him. At the end, that had turned out to be a wise decision, for his mother immediately attempted to open the car's door as soon as she had reached him.

Krolia was left to chase after the car speeding past her in a frenzy.

"I can't get a fucking job I don't have an education, Keith!" She yelled to no one in particular while standing alone at the gas station's parking lot, shoulders hunched in defeat.

-

Lance had called his lawyer after getting what he thought of like a splendid idea from talking with Nyma. His lawyer, Patrick had called him crazy but eventually had to comply with what Lance had asked. They'd called Hunk and set an arrangement before Lance drove to Patrick's office to pick up the papers he had asked for.

Now Lance walked into the burger joint at a fast pace, determination in every step. Hunk had been waiting for him at the counter tapping away at his cellphone with a flustered smile until he noticed Lance walk in.

Lance cleared his throat and set the papers in front of Hunk over the counter. "So, here are the papers. It's part of the arrangement that you may hand me the building over until you're leaving for Vienna in two weeks, that's what you asked for, right?"

Hunk nodded whilst he scanned the documents over with pursed lips. "Yeah, but just give me a few seconds to read this though..."

"Yeah, of course."

Lance sat over the counter as he impatiently waited for Hunk to finish reading the contract. He needed to get this done before he started getting any second doubts - or before Patrick sent a notice to his parents about what he was about to do and they'd try to stop him somehow.

He knew he was being impulsive. And he knew it had been all too out of the blue, but he also had this gut feeling that assured him it was just the right thing to do. What he actually wanted.

"Okay, I've read it all." Hunk announced, focusing Lance's attention back on him once more.

Lance smiled in anticipation, "And what do you think?"

"I'm totally on board with this, man. If I'm being honest, I rather leave the joint to one of my employees than just selling it off to someone I don't know. Besides, Shay has another joint already waiting in Vienna as I told you, remember? We're planning on renovating the place after our wedding."

Lance blinked, smiling like a dumbfounded idiot. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, boss."

"So, where do I sign?"

-

"Have you seen my mum yet?" Keith questioned towards Pidge as she entered the locker rooms where Shiro and he had been sitting at for the last hour, preparing for the fight against Sendak.

Pidge studied the boy with weary eyes before sighing, taking a seat beside him. "Relax, Keith. I'm sure she'll be here in a few. Just focus on the fight, okay?"

Keith let out a frustrated sigh, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor. The sound was slowly driving his coach crazy with every passing second. The boy was giving Shiro anxiety.

"Just - just stop doing that, Keith." Shiro leaned over Keith, holding his leg down for a few seconds, "You should listen to Pidge, relax a little."

Keith shook his head, pushing Shiro's hand off him. "I'm worried about her, she's not picking up the phone. You gotta go look for her, Pidge - "

Three heads turned towards the creaking of the door, only to see Krolia walk into the locker room with evident tear-stained cheeks. Her head was held low as she slowly approached her son.

Keith stood, watching her intently.

Krolia took a breath before finally speaking, "I'll shut down the gas station," She nodded, then looked up at her son with teary eyes, "And I'll find a job, okay?"

A subtle smile made it's way to Keith's lips when the woman leaned forward to his chest, he wrapped her in the hug she was waiting for. "It's okay now, mum. It's okay, yeah?"

She nodded into the hug, "I'm sorry."

Half an hour later, Keith's heart was racing as he stood inside the ring waiting for his opponent to show, Shiro right by his side whilst the rest of his family remained by the bleachers waiting impatiently.

His breathing was quickened, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Keith's body was a big lump of tingling and suddenly he didn't feel as confident as he had a few seconds ago as he watched a broad and tall man walk into the ring, wearing a red and white robe.

"And here comes the reigning champion... Maverick Sendak!"

The boisterous roaring of the crowd only intensified after Keith's opponent had been finally announced.

Kaz laughed from the bleacher he sat on and hollered, "Go back home Santa Claus, it's time to feed the reindeer!"

People around him looked over at the old man amused by his comment, Pidge cackled loudly beside him before adding her own comment to the hollers, "Beat that Santa Claus wannabe, Keef!"

Shiro laid his hands over both of Keith's shoulders as an attempt to soothe the boy, "Take a good look at him," Keith nodded and let out a huff. "Show him no fear. You wanna look confident, you hear me?"

"Looks like he came straight from the North Pole, though." Keith stated, holding back a laugh as soon as he noticed the guy start to walk over to him after disregarding his robe on the boxing ring's floor.

"Hey, how are you? All good?"

"Hello?"

"Have a good fight."

Keith stood appalled for a few seconds after Sendak had walked away, then turned to Shiro. "He looked nice."

Shiro laughed, "You're gonna regret saying that."

And after being ten minutes later into the fight, Keith did regret it.

He regretted having ever thought that. He was no match for Maverick Sendak. The guy was hard to hit, difficult to duck, challenging to feint.

"This is a fucking disaster..." Krolia gritted her teeth as she watched her son struggle to get the lead into the fight. It looked like Pidge was thinking just the same as her from the nibbling of her lip and the clenching of her fists. Her eyes wouldn't leave Keith's tumbling figure for a single second.

Keith had barely hit the guy hard enough to make him stumble but had at least managed to keep his defence stand strong whilst Sendak attempted to corner him.

It had barely been a second, but Keith gasped as an opening came into his view. He lunged forward with a jab that caused his opponent to falter, and finally, Keith was able to take the lead.

Shiro raised his fists in the air as a sudden reaction to watching his boy take over in the ring. "That's it, Keith! That's it!" he yelled, his voice muffled by the crowd's cheering. "Keep going, mate! Keep going!"

"Yes, mate! Fucking yes!" Pidge jumped taken aback by the scene, followed by Krolia's squeal.

A choir of gasps and hollers followed soon after in reaction to Keith failing to corner Sendak once again. His fifteen minutes of fame were over in the blink of an eye and Shiro's stomach churned at that.

"Come on Keith, block him, block him!"

"No, no no! For fucks sake, Keith fight back!"

"This is fucking embarrassing, grandson! People know me here!" Kaz cracked up in a holler of laughter at his own joke.

Lance drove into the boxing centre's parking lot in a hurry. His heart pounded on his chest, his stomach fluttered between joy and nervousness, his feet tingled with every step he took. He felt finally ready to tell Keith, he wasn't about to chicken out.

So Lance entered the boxing centre with determination in every step he took. The smell of sweat, beer and the deafening sounds of the roaring crowd hit him like a truck. He stared at the two men in the ring in astonishment for a few seconds before scanning the crowd, finally being able to spot Krolia, Pidge and Kaz sitting on one of the benches, their total focus on the fight while screaming their lungs out to the fighters on the ring.

The bell chimed signalling the end of the first round and Keith tumbled back into his seat at the corner of the ring, chest heaving rapidly.

Shiro kneeled beside Keith in a hurry, holding a water bottle to his lips. "C'mon Keith, you gotta be faster! Don't just throw yourself like that, man!"

Krolia ran over to the boxing ring, leaning towards her son, "Keith! Listen, you gotta startle him!" Then it was Pidge, then it was Kaz until eventually, all Keith could hear was indistinct shouting showering all over him. His head was throbbing, he almost felt like throwing up.

"Shut up, all of you!" He finally spat between heavy breaths.

They all stared intently at the boy as he spoke aghast, "He always knows my next move. He's reading my thoughts, it's like some fucking Santa magic."

Kaz barked out a laugh turning towards Pidge, "I fucking told you, didn't I?"

Standing next to the boxing centre's entrance, Lance could clearly make out Keith's distress and overwhelm by the situation. His nose was scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed, hair sticking to his forehead.

Then the next round was up before Lance could even process and once again Keith was being ridiculously toyed around by Sendak on the ring. Lance pursed his lips in frustration as he watched. There was nothing he could do about it but watch with an unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Krolia turned to Pidge, grabbing her by the shoulders. "He's gonna kill him or something, he needs to call for a technical knockdown -"

Pidge shook her head rapidly, "Nah, Mrs K, we're just getting started! Keith can take more, he can take more." The girl reassured, turning towards the boxing ring again when she heard the booing of the crowd.

Keith had managed to get through the second round only by hanging by a thread. And when he dipped into his corner once again, Lance took it as an opportunity to quickly make his way to his side, pulling himself up by the ropes of the ring.

"Hey, hey Keith." Lance called after the boy. It took him a few seconds but Keith finally attained focus on Lance's face. Although his mind was blank, Keith somehow offered the boy in front of him a fatigued smile. He could see his lips moving but for a moment couldn't fixate on his voice nor make out any his words.

"This is no fucking time for boyfriend drama, Kogane! Get your head back in the ring!"

His brows furrowed as the thought of him maybe actually imagining Lance leaning towards him. Shiro slapped his shoulder trying to get his attention. Keith didn't comply, but rather stared at Lance whilst seeming confused.

"I bought the burger joint!"

"Huh?"

"I bought the burger joint!" Lance repeated, fluttering in his stomach as he spoke.

"I know it's completely crazy, but I realized that I had never felt like I do when I am with you, and I don't want to go to Paris and I don't want to pretend that I don't have feelings for you anymore. I want to want what I really want and not what I think I must want - I want you." Lance huffed out a chuckle, "And you're not trash, Keith. You're fucking perfect"

Lance feared that he may have spoken too quickly due to Keith's agape expression. He swallowed nervously before patting Keith's arm, "Did you hear me?"

Lance was able to breathe when a clumsy smile slowly made it's way to his lips. Keith nodded, chest heaving.

"Hell yeah."

"Okay, great." Lance smiled amused by Keith's response. He had a fuzzy warm feeling in his chest now, and he was happy about it.

The third round was on as quickly as the second round had ended. Keith had gotten to his feet and charged towards Sendak while still on daze.

A collection of booing followed after a blow to the jaw sent Keith to the ground grunting.

Pidge blinked in surprise at the unexpected setting, looking over at Krolia with a shamefaced small smile. "Okay, maybe I was wrong."

"Get up, kid! Get up, now!" Shiro yelled in a frantic while anger bubbled on his insides.

Keith slowly glanced over to Lance who stood next to the boxing ring, looking at him with big eyes. He huffed, and in his state of exhaustion spoke to the boy:

"I'm not going to the Opera with you. Opera is shit."

The referee put the fight on hold and proceeded to make his way towards Keith, but refrained from grabbing the boy as he noticed him slowly standing up on his own.

Lance smiled widely, "But I'm definitely having your bedroom renovated, tough!"

Keith snickered, "Can I still be called Keith?"

"Only if you don't mock me for getting pedicures!"

"I don't even know what those are!"

The referee patted Keith's gloves to get his attention, "Hey, kid. Look at me, take one step forward..." Keith complied, "Good, back to the fight!"

Keith returned to the ring and whilst Shiro feared for the worst judging by the boy's block stance, Keith turned out to prove him wrong by managing pretty well, blocking Sendak's first jabs.

A combination thrown his way managed to startle Sendak and send him a few steps back.

Keith's sudden improvement on the ring had provoked excitement for the crowd, their cheering had intensified within a matter of seconds, the tension was thin in the air when the tables started to turn so abruptly.

"That's it! Keep it going just like that!"

"Get him again, get him again!"

"Fucking kick that lame-ass duck's ass, mate!"

"I bet fifty bucks on you, son. Don't you fucking let me down!"

Keith moaned in response to a quick cross-counter. "Where's you fucking defence, kid?!" Shiro's voice rang in his head. He continued to draw and with a sudden sucker punch - Keith stood dumbfounded, staring at Sendak's crumpled body through his hazy view.

His breathing was quickened, all noise around him was muted and -

"It's a knockout!" The referee announced.

For Keith, it all happened in a blur from there. Almost everything.

"You fucking did it, kid!" Keith turned seemingly perplexed towards Shiro's voice. He had barely processed his lucky strike yet but already found himself being squashed between his coach's arms.

The roaring of the crowd was overwhelming, Pidge had sneaked her way inside the boxing ring with Lance; he tasted of blood in his mouth, he reeked and his body was covered by sweat, but as soon as Shiro had gotten off him, Lance was kissing him and cradling his swollen cheeks in his hands.

Lance parted from the kiss, breathless while holding Keith's bruised face in his hands. "I'd like you to be my boyfriend, yeah?"

"Wasn't I already? I mean, you basically asked a few minutes ago -"

"- Officially, Keith."

"Oh."

Lance gave the boy a quizzical look as they both remained silent, yet still surrounded by the yelling of the people around the boxing ring, cheering or hollering how the match had gone down in the end.

Keith shrugged, "Yeah. Okay, we're -" And Lance was kissing him again.

For the first time in his life, Lance didn't know what was coming next, but that was perfectly okay with him. What his heart desired, what it needed, was right between his arms. 


End file.
